


The Root of Your Pain

by Rexxie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Anxiety, Bulimia, Castiel is a Manly Man With a Lot of Feelings, Dean Is a Downer, Dean Winchester Has Major Issues, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Homophobia, Hurt Dean, M/M, Panic Attacks, Probably Will Have Porn, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Smoking, This Fic is Terribly Written, john and mary are alive, what is tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-03-20 07:09:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3641298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rexxie/pseuds/Rexxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas are roommates in college. Dean has issues and Cas doesn't know about them. Dean is a closed off stubborn thing and doesn't exactly want to tell him either. It gets pretty rough and complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Check your Roommate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned that this fic is dark. Yes, very dark and I'm very mean to Dean. I'm sorry. I've wanted to write an eating disorder fic for so long since they're my favorite fics to read. This is very self-indulgent and eating disordered, so if it triggers you, please do not read! :(

It was the first day of university  for Dean Winchester. Dean was going to attend Darliton for four years, at least planning to. He was quite worried about dropping out, actually. He had barely made it through high school, he wasn’t exactly the smartest guy around. But trough some kind of astounding miracle he was at Darliton and he was going to study History & Arts. Dean was quietly pondering about all that, sitting on his bed, anxious to meet his roommate. And really anxious about whether the guy would even like Dean. In his opinion, it was more than likely that the guy would want to switch rooms in no time at all. Maybe even do that after a mere glance at him. The more he thought about it, the more upset he got. He even started to question coming here at all.

So it turned out that Dean’s new partner of life, or roommate if you wish, was Castiel. Castiel was husky and strong-husky, no way in hell was he even slightly fat-husky. He was all sharp with big muscles and a strong jawline. It was really apparent that the guy was into working out. Right when he got to their dorm, after Dean had been sitting there for a few hours already, trying to settle in, Castiel asked right away if Dean had been to the sports building yet, wondering if it was any good. Dean shook his head, kind of questioning why Castiel even bothered to ask. Dean thought it was clear as day that he wouldn’t have any business at the gym or running track. He did not make a comment though. He hated talking about it. He hated talking about his _weight_.

Anyway, this Castiel guy was pretty friendly and talkative. Sure, his sentences and vocabulary were a bit off and didn’t quite go with his intimidating physique. His hair was pitch black, thick and messy. He had clear pale skin. And blue eyes, like blue-blue eyes. Dean had never seen eyes like that, ever. He didn’t even think any eye color could be that vibrant. His sure wasn’t, his was kind of a moldy green or something. And his skin was tanned, like he had been living on a farm all his life and he got slightly embarrassed about that. Then he went right on and even got embarrassed about _being_ embarrassed of his skin. His own damn skin, last time he had checked, being tan was all hip and cool? Why in the world should he be embarrassed?

In their room the guy with the bright smile and eyes fussed about for a little while, getting all kinds of stuff out of his luggage. Like running shoes, clothes,  see-trough containers, a jumping rope and even candles. Dean just quietly observed, not really knowing what to do with himself. Finally the guy sat down on his sheetless bed. Knocked a smile at Dean and then kept nodding: “Very nice bedding, Dean.”

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Dean gave him half of a smile back. He wasn’t really sure if Castiel was making fun of him or not. His sheets were dark blue with yellow stars on them. Fucking _stars_. “So how come your parents weren’t sending you off?” Dean asked, trying to maintain the conversation and not totally fail at being a human being.

“My parents had other things to attend to,” Castiel announced. “It’s quite alright. I don’t mind.” Dean’s interest only spiked at that, but he didn’t dare to ask any further questions. He didn’t want to be prying. A slight hope crept up in him that maybe Castiel’s family wasn’t perfect either. That maybe he had a dysfunctional family just like Dean had. They’d be able to relate and then maybe Castiel wouldn’t pity him or judge him if Castiel would ever even get to know Dean that well, Dean really doubted it. Then he realized that he was actually _hoping_ for his new roommate to have the same misery in his life he had had. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind immediately.

“What time do the introductions start, do you know?” Castiel looked at the clock, it was almost 6PM.

“Uhh,” Dean started, “they’re tomorrow morning, actually.”

“We don’t have any place to go today?”

Dean shook his head. 

“Oh, well. I’m going to go and have a look at the gym. Do you want to come with me?” Castiel offered. Dean snorted at that.

“What?”

“Nothing, “ Dean mumbled. “Thanks, I’ll pass though. Maybe some other time.” Was Castiel already dropping hints that Dean should lose weight? If so, Dean already fucking knew it. He had known it and been _trying_ to all his life, at least as far as he was concerned. Maybe he was just overthinking it though. He was quite prone to doing that and he should stop. The guy was most likely just trying to be nice. He was a nice guy, surprisingly so. Usually fit guys with model faces were all mean comebacks and disinterest.

 

First week on campus went by very slowly for Dean. With it came the mortification that Castiel, who so far hadn’t made any complaints about him or notions of switching rooms, was majoring in Health & Wellness. With the whole fitness ordeal. _Fucking_ Health  & Wellness. Out of all the possible degrees! He would’ve rather had an IT nerd as his roommate who would never shut up about the laws of physics. He would’ve had  a _girl_. A girl who was whiny and bossy and rude. He would’ve taken an old perverted weirdo. Anyone, just about fucking anyone not majoring in anything regarding fitness. Or health. Dean wasn’t particularly on good terms with things like that. In fact, he was on awful terms, always had been.  Dean loved cigarettes, coffee and alcohol. Dean loved _food_. And had _food issues_.

Having learnt that his roommate was a fucking healthnut, he tried to be low key. He tried to eat normal portions in front of Castiel, he tried to seem happy and relaxed. They actually got on really well. They liked the same bizarro crap. They enjoyed the same TV shows, video games and movies. They’d have _Star Trek: The Original_ _Series_ marathons on the weekends and gush over William Shatner. And totally _not_ in a weird way. They both did it in a completely platonic way with sentences like “His acting is really fantastic, I think.” and “Goddamit, Shatner’s the man.” They really enjoyed themselves and in a month Dean started to become more relaxed around Castiel because he learned that Castiel wasn’t one of those people who would push their interests on others. He only sometimes complained about his assignments and shared a couple of health facts with Dean, but it was never in a hinting-kind-of-way.

Yes, Dean tried to be as normal as possible in front of Castiel, but whenever Castiel went on a run or to the gym, Dean went all out. All out on total self-loathing and feeling trapped, not being able to deal with his past and his emotions and his fucking non-existent self-esteem. He went to a supermarket or a fast food joint. Got a _ton_ of food, got back to his dorm, put a good movie on and then he ate it all. Ate so much it hurt him. So much he could barely move. So much that it was practically _easy_  to go the bathroom and throw it all back up again. It was almost effortless. After it was all done, he quickly cleaned out all the evidence, the burger wrappers, the ice cream cartons and the chocolate bar wrappers. He took them to a trashcan outside of campus. Had a cigarette in the parking lot and went to back to his dorm.

“Hello, Dean. Where have you been again?” enquired Castiel when he got back to their tiny dorm room. “Do you think you can’t have cigarettes while I am here? Every time I come from the gym, you come back smelling of cigarettes. I’ve told you plenty of times, Dean. It is none of my business if you smoke. You can do it here, _even_ if it’s against the rules. I won’t tell on you.” He offered him a smile. Laid back onto his bed and looked at Dean, in a mischievous way. It made Dean uneasy, him looking at him like that.

“Uhm,” Dean closed the door behind him and threw off his boots. “No, no. I just… like… doing it outside, you know. Fresh air and shit, a walk, all that. It’s great.”

Castiel looked at him and Dean could see the boy’s eagerness bubbling up in him. “Oh, Dean. Have you picked up walking? Where did you walk? How much? And for your information, the smoking kind of cancels out the fresh air, you know.”

“Cas,” Dean started, tiredly sitting onto his bed. Their beds were opposite of each other, both against one of the walls. Each boy also had his own desk which stood by their bed. “May I call you Cas, by the way? Actually, I’mma call you Cas no matter what you think, what the fuck kind of a name is Castiel anyway? It’s like from the Bible or some shit. It’s weird,” Dean went on a ramble.

“Yes, you can call me Cas. Some of my high school friends called me Cas as well, but tell me about your walk, Dean.”

“Cas, please,” Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t get all health-freaky on me, okay. I just walked, I don’t know, a couple of miles, somewhere around this area. It was great. It was magical _et cetera_.”

“Do you plan to start walking now?”

Dean felt kind of panicky now. Why didn’t Cas leave it alone? Was it really _that_ obvious that he could use the walks? When was the last time he weighed himself? Or even _looked_ at himself in the mirror? He had been avoiding mirrors lately and he also had been eating _more_ lately. His days didn’t _only_ consist of eat yourself to death and then throw it all up cycle. He kept all the meals that he had with Castiel down. They even had movie nights with fucking pizza and chips. How could’ve he let it all slide? Suddenly he began to feel how his jeans were tight around his waist and his _Metallica_ tee wasn’t quite fitting anymore. _Oh, no. Oh, shit._ Dean was definitely going into panic attack territory now. He looked down at his belly, noticing that his belly button was peeking out from under his shirt. He quickly yanked it back. Inhaled sharply and stormed to the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

He grabbed a hold of the sink. Looked at his pudgy face which quickly became blurry. His ears began to ring, the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. He tried to get air into his lungs, but it was definitely _not_  happening. No matter how much he panted, he still couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. He slowly sunk onto the cold bathroom floor. Resting his back against the bathtub. Put his head between his knees and just… was a mess. Was he crying? Was he screaming? Was he even alive anymore? He couldn’t tell. Why was he in this position in the first place? What had Castiel said? He couldn’t recall.

 

Dean woke up on the bathroom floor a few hours later. His face all red and blotchy. At first he was kind of confused as to what the _hell_ was he doing on the bathroom floor. Did he get drunk last night? Then it hit him. _Oh fucking fuck of the fuck mountain of fucks_. This _could not_  be happening to him. How was he going to face Cas? No. Nope. He was not leaving this bathroom. He was staying there. He was just going stay right there and starve to death. At least then he could die happy, could die skinny. But it would also take a crazy amount of time considering how much he weighed. He could also quit school and go home, not say a word to Cas. That seemed a bit more realistic.

He was _still_ being fucking ridiculous though. He was 18. He was practically a grown up, at least he was _supposed_ to be one. He was going to have to own up to it. Besides, going back home would’ve been _worse_. He slowly rose up from the floor, got to the sink and started to wash is face. He looked at himself in the mirror, looked at his stupid pudgy face. Sighed heavily and looked around for a scale. It was under the bathtub. He quickly dragged it out and stepped on it. _Two hundred and three_ was staring back at him. He inhaled, put the scale back. Pulled his hair and just hissed, went into a total swear fest in his mind. _Oh, what in the fuck. How? I’m going to fucking kill myself or something or just stop eating. Fuck my life. It shouldn’t even be allowed to be this fat. I was one hundred and ninety four at home. Nine pounds in little over a month, was this a joke? No. This is fucking life, I am a joke._ He had not been to the two hundreds in so _so_ long.

“Dean?” came a knock on the bathroom door. Castiel. Dean breathed in and out, slowly. _Get yourself together._

“Yeah, Cas. I’m here,” he wiped his face with his hands. Took one last glance at himself in the mirror, disgusted by himself all over, sighed and unlocked the door. He was not going to reveal himself. He would just come up with something. He was just going to _lie._ Dean had nothing against lying.

“What happened?” was Castiel concerned.

“Uhm, you know… stuff,” Dean said awkwardly. Nothing came to mind. The big blue eyes were making him nervous.

“Are you alright?” Castiel touched Dean’s face to feel if it’s hot or if he’s cold or what was even happening. “What was that, Dean? I was really worried. I knocked and called for you for half an hour. You didn’t answer. I decided I would give you your privacy. Did I say something wrong? Did something happen?” Castiel quickly word vomited, overwhelmed with confusion and worry over his roommate.

“Cas,” Dean started, eyes cold. “Let’s leave it. Let’s just fuckin’ leave it. I’m gonna go for a quick smoke, alright.” Dean pushed him out of the way, got his boots on and stumbled out of the door, leaving behind an awfully bewildered _friend_.

 

Dean got out of the building, already a smoke in his hand lighted up. Striding towards his car. He quickly finished his smoke and got into his Impala. Put the music on and turned the volume up. His breaths were heavy and fast, his mind empty. He saw Cas coming from far away, he was probably coming to talk to him and Dean didn’t want to hear any of it. He got his engine running and drove off. He didn’t know where he was going exactly, but he sure knew where he was going to end up at. And that was probably binging. He just needed some time, he needed to be away from people. He couldn’t take the judgment any longer and he needed to figure out what to do. He drove for a while, finally parking his car at an empty parking lot in the middle of nowhere. It only had a shady looking gas station.

He looked at himself in the rear view mirror. His eyes were red, blood vessels practically bursting out of his eyes. His face a little less red now, more pale, dark circles prominent. He had to stop this. He couldn’t go on just ignoring being fat, he couldn’t take it anymore. Cas probably thought he was pathetic. No, he definitely thought that. Dean’s clothes didn’t even fit him. He had to do something. He was going to have to stop binging. All together. No more binging and throwing up. It wasn’t going to get him anywhere. That behavior might’ve helped him lose weight before. When he was really _seriously_ fat, but now he needs to actually work for it. Not that he wasn’t seriously fat now.  And he needed to start right then and there. He was going to eat breakfast and lunch. No dinner, no snacks. And the meals were going to be light. Oatmeal for breakfast and a salad for lunch. And, yes, he was going to keep up his walking. No, no. He was going to pick up running again. Two hundred and three pounds was no joke. That was disgusting. He was disgusting. What was he even thinking wearing T-shirts in this condition?

Again he looked down on himself where his belly rested over his belt. His stomach and sides had hurtful red lines on them. He tugged down his shirt, a sharp pain in his chest. It was actually painful for him to be this fat. It was beginning to get dark outside and he should be getting back to his dorm, but he was hungry. He wanted to _eat. Fuck it. Just fuck it. I’m going to have one last binge and purge and from tomorrow I’ll start eating clean again. And start working out. I’m not going to tell Cas, he doesn’t need to know._ He got out of his car and went to the little grey building in the parking lot.

The store had a strange smell to it and it was tiny and dirty. Dean just grabbed as many packs of chips and candy as he could and went to the cash register. Dean was sweating slightly and nervous, again. He was always nervous when buying binge food. He was afraid of the cashier’s comments or seeing someone he knew. Even then, so far away from where he actually lived.

When he was back in his car, he put all the junk he bought on the seat next to him and drove even further away from campus, away from the gas station. He couldn’t have done it right there because he didn’t want the cashier girl to see him. He turned down from the main road, into a small forest road until he came to a clearing. He parked his car there and just started eating. It was quite weird at first because Dean usually watched a movie when he was doing this. That way his whole mind was occupied, but now he could see himself from the rear view mirror, stuffing his face. _What is wrong with me?_  He turned the mirror away.

 

Dean was sitting in his car in the forest. It was dark outside and he was cold as fuck. He was also fucking mortified because Cas was going to come and pick him up. In the midst of everything he had forgot to get gas for his car, even though he had been to a gas station. And Dean never stocks up on gas. So he had to call Cas and ask him to come get him, after one of the lowest points of his life. Binging in a car and throwing it all up next to a tree, in the middle of a forest. Dean was just feeling so desolated and worn out. He slowly gathered all the wrappers and stuffed them under his back seat, so Cas woulnd’t see them. In his quiet, horrible embarrassment he rested his head against the seat, waiting for his roommate.

“Uhm, so, Dean? Why did you drive there?” Cas asked while they were driving back to the dorm. Even though Cas had got gas for Dean’s car he refused to let Dean drive after seeing him. Dean was looking out of the window, not answering the question. He didn’t even know what to say to Cas. What possible logical explanation could he give to Cas that _did not_ include “oh I just like to run from my problems and throw up my food, is all”.

“Dean?” Cas tried again. No answer. Dean just kept staring out of the window, finding peace in the darkness and the vague outlines of trees.

“Dean. I don’t understand what is going on,”  he pressed on. “You have to let me know what is going on. Why did you come here? What happened earlier? You can tell me, Dean.” Cas looked at his friend. He saw his reflection from the car window. Dean’s hair was a mess and his face all blotchy. Castiel felt something crawling up in his stomach. He didn’t know what to do. He really liked Dean. He maybe even liked Dean a little bit too much. His dirty blonde hair, green eyes and pouty lips. His way of always making him laugh. Cas liked how he felt at ease with Dean, he never judged. Or how he got really excited when it came to books. Cas wasn’t much of a reader. Sure he had read most of the classics, because he had to read them for school, but when Dean started to talk about the books Cas saw them in a whole different light. Dean always gave Cas a slight want to reread the book they were discussing. They had only known each other for little over a month, but Cas was really starting to care about Dean.

Reaching their dorm room Dean still hadn’t said a word. Cas felt anger building up in him. He closed the door behind him and saw that Dean was going towards the bathroom, recalling what had happened earlier Cas grabbed his friend’s hand and yanked him back, so Dean was facing him. The boy immediately tried to free himself from the grip, but it was no use. Castiel was clearly stronger than him. In a fit of rage Castiel pressed Dean against the wall and stared at him. His hand was pressed tightly on Dean’s chest. He noticed how Dean’s eyes were a strong shade of red and bursting out of his eye sockets.

“Are you on drugs?” Cas asked the first question that popped into his mind.

“What?” Dean made a face. “No.” Dean tried to get Castiel’s strong hand away from his body.  He started to get self-conscious about Cas feeling his soft chest. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment.

“What is it then? You suddenly disappear into the bathroom for hours, then you drive about 20 miles out of down to an empty forest? Your eyes are bloodshot! Tell me, Dean. What is it?” Castiel’s blue eyes stared straight into his friend’s. Dean tried to escape his sight, looking away.

“I swear, it’s nothing,” Dean swallowed, still struggling against Cas. Not looking him in the eye.

“It is not _nothing_ , Dean.”

“Who are you to me, anyway?” Dean asked, also getting mad. “I’ve only known you for a little while, man. We’re just roommates. I’m _not_ on drugs, although I wish I was, really. So, stop bugging me about something that is none of your fucking business!” Cas was taken aback. He looked at Dean in confusion and let his hand fall to his side.

“Alright, Winchester. I apologize.” Dean’s eyes grew wider in realization of what had just happened.

“Shit, I-I’m sorry, Cas. I didn’t mean it.” Cas was sitting down on his bed. His elbows on his knees. He looked up at Dean and shook his head.

“It’s fine, Dean,” Cas smiled shyly. Dean just nodded and disappeared into the bathroom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm sorry, I know, I probably can't write and if I could do anything differently or better. Let me know. This fic isn't finished. And if it's really bad and mean then just let me know and I'll take it down and just continue on writing it to myself. I just thought I'd share what I got, maybe somebody is as into reading ED fics as I am and will enjoy this.  
> Also, this is my first time writing fan fiction and I have no idea what I'm doing.


	2. The Drunken Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas go to a house party where Dean gets way too drunk for his own good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's another chapter, a bit shorter, but a chapter none the less, I didn't want to stretch it out any longer. I'm going to try and take it a bit slower from now on so you people who read can get nice and attached to the characters and really feel them up and close, but, actually, no guarantees on that 'cause I might randomly get too anxious to write a scene I wanna write and, you know, there it goes, I rush.  
> Hope you enjoy and if eating disorders trigger you, do not read. Stay away. This fic is and is going to be mostly eating disorder related, they do tend to take up most of your life when they got you, and they got Dean's, so, yeah...

The next morning Dean woke up with a headache and saw that Castiel’s bunk was already empty. Dean was probably running late. He got up quickly, threw on the first jeans he could find which were really _tight_ on him and it made Dean squirm. He threw on a shirt and a huge dark green hoodie on top of it. It was way too hot for a hoodie, but Dean couldn’t stand being in a tee. He checked the clock and realized he had only about a couple of minutes until his lesson on Greek art started. He did actually want to have something for breakfast and he was feeling pretty hungry, but then decided against it. The better off he’d be really. He got his books and stormed out of the dorm.

 

The day had gone past real sluggish for Dean. His stomach kept growling and demanding food and Dean, having gotten so used to eating, had trouble ignoring it. He hung on strong though. By the end of the evening it came about that Dean hadn’t actually managed to eat anything and he was feeling quite satisfied with himself. He and Castiel crashed their room at about the same time. Castiel just came from a run, all sweaty and panting and Dean had just arrived from an event of lonely chain smoking behind the school building. They hadn’t spoken all day which was otherwise normal for them because they were both taking very different courses, and other than lunch they didn't really see each other, but today in particular you could feel it. You could really feel it in the air, the awkwardness.

“Hi, Dean,” Cas waved while taking off his running shoes, stumbling into the wall and falling right onto his ass. “Darn it! Ow!” Cas threw his head back, hitting the wall once again, to which the boy just closed his eyes and sighed.

“Did you just say… darn it?” Dean furrowed his brow, looking at Cas and kind of started to giggle because Cas was so clearly worn out and looked miserable hitting the wall _twice._

 _“_ Shut up!” Cas’s eyes got big as plates and he took his shoe and threw it towards Dean with all his might. He missed though, the shoe just collided with the wall and bounced back to the floor. That made Dean laugh even more. Cas had had it now. Dean couldn’t even blink before Cas was all over him, trying to tackle him on his bed.

“Duuuuude!” Dean screamed and laughed at the same time. “Get your sweaty butt off me!” And Castiel did, he just sat next to Dean, panting, partly from having just ran and partly because tackling Dean was hard work. Both guys had smiles on their faces.

“Hi, Dean,” Cas repeated and held out his hand to his friend, wanting a handshake. “Are we okay?” Dean looked at him, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, we’re okay, Cas,” Dean gave Cas his hand and they shook on it, looking each other straight in the eye. Dean was admiring Castiel’s crystal clear eyes and Cas was loving the round green lanterns staring back at him. And the handshake lasted for way too long which had the boys giggling all over again, a strong scent of smoke and sweat in the air.

“So, Dean-ooo, it’s Friday night. What are we going to do?” Cas stood up, placed his shoes by the door and took off his sweaty wife beater, exposing all his muscles to Dean. Dean swallowed and felt his throat getting stuck. He was so beautiful, he was like a sculpture from one of the art text books Dean has and for a moment there Dean got confused whether he wanted to _fuck_ Cas or _be_ Cas. No. He definitely wanted to be Cas, not fuck him, he wasn’t gay. Wanting to fuck a dude? That’s _so_ gay. Yet, Dean couldn’t stop staring and continued on eye goggling him as Cas removed his sweats, revealing his perfect, strong legs. Dean felt a slight tingling in his pants and flashed red in the face. _Fuck._

“No comment, hmm?” Cas looked at his roommate. “All right, I’m going to wash myself now. You, please, figure out what we’re doing today.” Cas closed the bathroom door behind him and in a second you could hear the water running. Dean’s breathing got faster and his hands were strongly grabbing his knees, teeth pressed tightly together. And he was _horny. Why am I so turned on right now? Fuck my life if I’m gay. Fuck it, just entirely fuck it. I’m not gay. I’m probably just so fucking jealous it turns me on. I must want to look like him so bad my brain goes into overdrive. I’ve never liked a guy, I’m not about to start now._

 

Dean and Cas had decided to go to a party. A proper college party. It was the first time for the both of them because they hadn’t yet managed to get invited to any parties since coming to uni. Dean was really excited to drink, to get totally drunk. He still hadn’t eaten anything and thought it was just perfect because now he gets to drink with a little more ease. He would’ve felt really guilty if he had eaten during the day and now went all out on alcohol as well.

The two guys were leaning against the window, drum and base was filling all the rooms. They had already greeted Meg who was throwing the party. Cas also introduced Dean to her. Cas was drinking his third beer and Dean had done two shots of vodka and was feeling a little buzz already.

“I can’t believe you don’t like beer, Dean,” Cas laughed, looking at him. Dean just shrugged. Of course he liked beer, he _loved_ beer and he had even drunk beer in front of Cas plenty of times, but Dean knew Cas didn’t remember that. Dean’s friend’s memory wasn’t exactly on point and Dean often used the fact to his own advantage. He didn’t want to drink beer anymore. Before he didn’t care what he dumped into his body, in fear of being discovered, but it had gone too far and Dean was very much determined to start losing weight again. Everybody knew that beer wasn’t the lightest drink around. Bearing in mind the amount of calories in a beer, Dean just refused and stuck to vodka. It gets you drunk, faster for much less calories.

“I love beer,” Castiel stated proudly. “In fact, I love beer so much, I’m going to get another one. You wait here.” Dean noticed that Cas wasn’t exactly sober anymore either. He really loved how Cas could still relax and have drinks, despite being into fitness. Dean thought that he was still way too sober and quickly went to one of the tables and started pouring himself another shot when a guy pumped into him, making him spill his shot all over the table.

“Hey, man!” Dean exclaimed and shot the guy an angry look.

“Dude, not my fault you’re a fatass,” the guy was furious. Dean’s heart sunk and his stomach flipped, cheeks growing redder. He wanted to see his face again, to remember him, but the guy had already left. Dean only got to look back at him, noticing that he was taller than he was. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and tried to be calm and _not_ freak out. His whole night doesn’t have to be ruined. The guy just told him the truth. He should’ve actually respected the guy, he did nothing wrong. Dean _was_ a fatass and he knew it perfectly well. He didn’t have to be a pussy about it when someone said it to his face. With a deep sigh he went ahead and filled his shot glass once again. Quickly drowned it, then another one and one after that. Refilling his shot glass he went back to the window where Cas was already settled in.

“Where did you go?” Cas asked.

“Went to get a shot,” Dean upped his shot.

“Are you drunk, Dean?”

“I’m going to be,” Dean announced, gulping down the glass and grimacing.

“Don’t even need anything to drink it with?”

“Nah, man,” Dean shook his head and put the glass away. _Juice and soda are empty calories. Just empty calories, Cas, you know that._

 

The party ended pretty quickly for Castiel once he realized that Dean had overdrank. Dean was absolutely plastered. Cas only saw him take a few shots and was quite surprised seeing Dean as shitfaced as he was. He thought Dean, unlike Cas himself, could hold his liquor.

“I doo, do NOT wanna go home Cassiiiee,” Dean said, sitting against their dorm building, in the pitch dark on the grass.

“Now, why not, Dean?” Castiel sighed, he really just wanted to sleep. He had had a good time, chatting with Dean about movies and commenting on people that were at the party. Meg even came around a few times to chat them up and all three had laughed their asses off.

“It’s 3AM.”

“Duuude, Cassiiee, that ain’t no sshit, I’m tellin ya,” Dean declared, making a show with his hands. “I, like, ya know, ME, personally, your little Dean-oo… well, actually, your big Dean-oo,” he giggled, going silent for a while, then continuing, “If I’m asleep, like… actually… in dreamland by 3AM, it’s been a good day for me, maaan! I don’t, I don’t know when you fall asleep, but I don’t even sometimes get to falling… asleep.” Dean was snickering to himself.

“What?” Castiel crossed his hands, looking at Dean. Cas had been dragging Dean home from Meg’s house for an hour now, he was sober as could be.

“Ohhh,” Dean looked up at Cas. “Uh-oh, maaan, you look zcarry as fucks right about nao’. Calm it, okay, you greek god.”

“Dean, what are you on about?” Castiel wanted to know what he meant that he sometimes didn’t get to falling asleep. Dean started to laugh loudly.

“Ohh my good, dude, you tell me, rite,” Dean shook his head. “I can not even literally rememba’,”

“Dean, let’s just go upstairs now.” It was hopeless.

“Noonono, you tell me what I told youuu, I wanna know what I on about meself, okaaay.”

“You just told me that you sometimes don’t even fall asleep or something like that. Is that true?”

Dean looked at him, he looked at him long and hard. Then, suddenly, he got up, stumbling around, still having a difficult time balancing himself.

“Cas, what the fuckkkk are we still doing outside? Come ooon, let’s go inside, you crazy bitch.” Castiel rolled his eyes at that and watched his friend struggling to open the main door.

“Here, let me do it.” Dean stumbled away slowly, still leaning against the wall, smiling at Castiel, in a much bigger way than usual. Cas took a look at him and noticed that Dean, actually, had a big, gorgeous smile, he wondered why he hadn’t noticed it earlier. He opened the door with ease, showing Dean the way, in case he was about to fall then Castiel could catch him.

“Wow,” Dean clapped. “Such a talented young man I got for a rooooommmate. Cool.” He nodded approvingly and started to go up the stairs.

“Cass, Cas, CAS!” Dean shouted. “I’ma’ be the first to admit here, that, yessss, I’m not the most balanced person in this stairway rite nao’, so can you like keep your distance for some secs, rite? ‘Cause I don’t wanna crush you or anythin’,”

“Dean, you are not going to _crush_ me and I don’t want you to fall down the stairs. I’ll be right behind you, I got you.” Dean stopped, mid stairway and crossed his arms.

“NO.”

“No? No what?”

“I am not going annnnyywhere from this spot until you are either at the top of the stairssss or down of the… stairssss.”

Castiel didn’t understand, but he was too tired to argue and just took a couple of steps back. He just wanted to get to sleep already.

“Thank you.”

He watched Dean go, taking his time, mumbling something to himself. Reaching the apartment, Dean went straight to his bed, sighing from relief. Cas removed both of their shoes. Got undressed himself, only leaving on his boxer shorts.

“Dean, are you able to undress yourself?” he asked, shaking him from the shoulder. Dean didn’t answer. He then started to yank at Dean’s hoodie, trying to get it off. Dean didn’t make a sound. Once the hoodie was off Cas threw it to the ground. He removed Dean’s socks and started to take off his T-shirt when suddenly Dean woke up.

“Eyyy, what the fuck are you doing?!” Dean bellowed, terrified and backed away from Castiel. “Get off me!” Cas looked at him in surprise, not knowing what he did wrong. Dean wrapped himself into the blanket in no time and stared at Castiel like he had just been insulted. And he did feel insulted. He didn’t want Cas to see him.

“Good night, Cas,” he said and turned his back to him.

“Yeah, good night to you too, Dean.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And comments motivate me, so if you feel like it, comment, it's nice, if you're not the commenting type, don't worry, I gotcha. (as in it's cool and you don't have to comment if you don't want to but in case you were thinking that I don't care for comments or something and then wasn't gonna leave one for me then like, know that, yes, I care for comments, very much)


	3. A Call from Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets a call and Castiel thinks it's totally okay to listen in on it. (Rude!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So late. So short. So sorry. But in my defense, my internet was being beyond shady every time I wanted to write and I like to listen to Reamonn while I'm writing this fic and only Reamonn (I swear to god, it's like the key to this fic, don't laugh) and I don't have them on my computer, so I had to settle with my local library and that was just such a bad vibe, so this chapter is short and out of place and bad and I'm sorry, but I thought I'd just have a chapter up, to show my determination, right. I'll finish this fic. Hopefully updating every week, at least once.  
> Enjoy the chapter, or try to, at least!

The next day Dean woke up with a deadly thirst. A thirst for water which could only mean one thing. Dean was hung over. He noticed that there was a huge water bottle on his table by the bed. He took it and gulped it down whole, feeling slightly better, but only so slightly that it wasn’t much help and after a little while Dean was once again hunching over the toilet, throwing up his insides. Only this time it was involuntary. Only water, bile and stomach acid came up, but it still made Dean feel _good._

Most people would be disgusted or upset or horrified over vomiting. Not Dean. For Dean getting so drunk that it made you sick was comforting. For him it was another perk to drinking, among things like feeling relaxed, numbing out the emotional crap and forgetting. After he was done dying over the toilet seat he went straight back to his bed.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas came over to him. “Or I should say good after noon.”

“Go away, Cas.” Dean turned over, covering himself with his blanket, grunting.

“You’re hung over. I’m not surprised. Were you throwing up?”

Dean’s heart beat picked up at that, but then he remembered that it was okay. He was supposed to throw up after drinking too much, it was normal. People did that.

“Uh-uh.”

“I noticed that you drank the water I left you. That’s good, but I’m assuming that was also what you threw back up just now, so I don’t recommend eating or drinking anything else for a while. Let your body sort itself out.”

So Dean’s Saturday mostly went to sleeping it out. Castiel on the other hand did his homework, went to the gym and got Dean’s car towed.

“You didn’t have to do that Cas,” Dean said, sitting up on his bed and grabbing the once again filled water bottle from the table.

“No, no, it’s fine. I wanted to do it.” Dean was too tired to argue or to feel guilty or embarrassed or anything and even more than that he _really_ didn’t want to keep talking on the matter. The matter of why was his car in the forest in the first place. He just wanted to forget about it. So he only muttered “thanks” to Cas and went to the bathroom to have a shower.

 

Cas had offered to go to a walk with Dean which quickly turned into an evening coffee at a local coffee shop. It was still warm enough to sit outside and there was a bit of sun left to warm their faces and dry Dean’s wet hair. Dean was wearing sunglasses to hide his dark circles and fucked up complexion. He was also sporting a fairly large black hoodie which probably actually belonged to Sam. The guys were both sipping on their black coffees, Dean grimacing every time he took a sip because he _hated_ black coffee, but it wasn’t like he had much choice. Want to drop the pounds, got to quit the cream.

“Dean, why are you drinking it black if you clearly don’t like it?” Cas asked, laughingly.

“Um, I don’t feel so good, still,” he mumbled back. “Better not make it worse with the sweetness and shit.” Cas nodded, looking at Dean and _kept_ looking. It made Dean very uncomfortable, but he tried to ignore it because asking what was on Cas’s mind was like begging for an emotional cry down, so Dean just put his poker face on and went on drinking his disgusting coffee.

“Dean…” Cas started.

“Nope.”

Just nope. Dean knew he had been way too drunk the night before. He didn’t want to discuss it, god knows what he told Cas. The only thing he remembered was being called a fatass and that was eating away at him. Coming to his mind again and again. Crushing his spirits and making him fucking miserable. Making him want to go to his room, to his bed and just be there and not show his face anywhere. The one thing that made it better was the fact that he hadn’t eaten for almost 2 days. _That_ calmed him.

“You don’t even know what I wanted to ask you,” Cas protests. Dean scoffs.

“Something about yesterday or about the car or- or something along the lines of that and my answer is no. Just no.” Castiel rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he spat out angrily. “At least have something to eat.”

“Dean, come on, you haven’t had anything today and I don’t think it will come back up anymore.”

“I’m not hungry.” He _wasn’t_ and the higher the hour count of not eating went, the better Dean felt.

Castiel sighed deeply, annoyed with his friend. His friend had been acting all kinds of weird lately and Castiel didn’t know what to make of it all. On the other side of the table Dean was feeling just as annoyed. In the past few days everything had become weird and out of place. Although he hadn’t admitted to anything he had made it pretty clear to Cas that there was something. Something wrong with him. Something he was not telling. And that alone pissed Dean off and made him feel like a failure. He should’ve been more guarded, more careful and not so _weak._ The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. _You can’t do anything right, Dean, can you? Cas sure wants to switch roommates now, huh. Oh, he must hate me. Locking myself into the bathroom, driving my car in the middle of nowhere and running out of fucking gas, then getting beyond shitfaced. And of course, can’t forget being basically obese while doing it all. Maybe, yeah, Cas would give me a pass on all of that if I was skinny, but I’m not. I’m a beached whale. A beached whale doing all of that is pathetic._ Dean’s leg started fidgeting and he started to look around nervously, suddenly more aware of his body again. The coffee was waking him up, his thoughts became more alert. He tugged at his hoodie and picked on his still-too-tight jeans. He needed to get his shit together and start acting like a normal human being. _Now._

“Fuck, man,” Dean said, all of a sudden. “Can’t we do anything today? Like, go to some kind of party again? Get some drinks on?”

“Again?” Castiel raised his eyebrows.

“Hey, don’t judge me, man.”

“I-I’m not,” Castiel started, not wanting to offend Dean. “Just. Dean, are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, it’s a brilliant one!” Dean smiled or at least, tried to. Castiel looked at him suspiciously. Those blue eyes digging into Dean. Dean swallowed, feeling the tension in the air, when his phone started to ring.

“Yeah,” he answered his cell.

“Dean?” It was Mary. It was Dean’s mom. His heart jumped at that and went into a faster beating rhythm. A mixture of excitement and tread was filling his insides now.

“Yeah, it’s me, mom.” He tried to be calm. For Castiel’s sake.

“Oh, Dean,” Mary cried. “I miss you. I really miss you. Sor-Sorry for not calling you earlier, I just couldn’t with the…”

“No, mom, it’s okay. It’s all right,” Dean cut off his mom.

“How are you doing? How is everything? Is your roommate nice? Are-are you eating enough?” All the questions just poured out of the woman, not having heard from his son in a month. Dean shut his eyes and slipped back into his chair, lazily. He didn’t want to deal with the last question. At all.

“Mom, I’m okay… and everything is okay. Oh, and I couldn’t have asked for a better roommate,” Dean answered, opening his eyes and looking at Cas who was kindly smiling at him. “His name is Castiel and he’s nice and polite and everything, mom.” Dean started to smile as well, in a smug kind of way.

“Polite, yeah? Maybe you could learn something from him then. You never did have any manners, Dean,” Mary laughed and his son laughed with him.

“Yeah, mom, I’ll tell Cas to give me a private lesson on etiquette. Don’t worry.”

“But you didn’t answer my question, sweetie. Have you been eating?” There it was again. The question Dean tried so desperately to ignore.

“I’m fine, mom. I’m fine.”

“Dean…”

“How are things over there, mom?” Dean still tried to change the subject.

“Dean,” Mary said angrily, “Answer the question.”

“Yes, mom, yes, okay, yes. I have been eating,” Dean surrendered, praying to god that Cas wouldn’t pick up on anything. The guy was still just looking at him, listening on their conversation. At least he couldn’t hear his mom talking. That would've been the end of Dean Winchester.

“What did you eat today, then?”

“I don’t remember, mom,” Dean whined, “Like some pasta for lunch, cereal for breakfast, the usual.”

“You better not be lying to me, Dean,” Mary’s tone was warning.

“I’m not!”

“All right, I’m sorry, I’m just worried. You know I love you, Dean. You’re a very handsome young man, no matter what dad says and _said_ when you left. I’m very sorry about him, I am and if you want to lose…”

“Mom, please,” Dean cut her off again, his tone begging, “Don’t do this.”

“I just want you to look after yourself, sweetie.”

“Yeah, I know, mom. I am looking after myself, I am. I promise,” Dean said, guilt filling his stomach. “You better tell me how are things over there?”

“Oh, don’t worry about us, Dean. We manage, we manage…” Mary said tiredly. “I have to go now, Dean. It was nice hearing from you, I love you very much.”

With a couple of promises to call more often from both sides, the call was over. It left Dean feeling heavy and he looked shyly at Castiel, wondering if Cas was going to say anything. And Castiel wanted to, he did. He wanted to ask when the hell Dean had had pasta or why was he telling his mother he was looking after himself and that he was fine when he clearly was none of those things. Castiel didn’t though, he didn’t say or ask anything. Dean had gotten mad at him for prying enough times now and Castiel didn’t want to make him mad again. It wasn’t his place to say anything.

“So, a party then?” Castiel smiled widely, flashing his perfect teeth. “Sure, I know a party. Let’s go.”

 

At the party Castiel and Dean danced. They danced together. They danced with other people. They totally forgot whose party it even was. Dean ate too much chips and dip, but was too drunk to care. At some point he stumbled to the bathroom and made himself throw up. Partly because he was feeling nauseous from too much alcohol, partly because he wanted to get rid of the chips. Then he went on drinking and eating and by morning he had emptied the contests of his stomach four times and he was feeling at the top of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, yes! Thank you so much for the nice comments. Glad that the fic is interesting to you guys!


	4. Why Don't you Tell me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's been losing weight. Dean's been stuck in the past. Castiel notices, a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem, so another chapter, that's like a double post, basically. Probably won't have time to upload this week, thought I'd just do it today then, rather than next week. This chapter is more decently sized and actually drives the plot somewhere. Has some weirdly timed time lapse and a memory and pretty graphic descriptions of eating disorders and heavy smoking. So if that triggers you, you know what to do.

So, Dean’s diet and eating habits had been quite  _complicated_  recently. Even more complicated than usual. He somehow had to eat something while really wanting to eat nothing at all, but kind of wanting to eat everything at the same time  _and_ he had do it all while he was living with Cas. Cas who insisted on them having lunch together every day. Cas who was cheery and fit and smart and cute on top of that. Not that Dean would ever admit that he thought his roommate was cute. No way.

Dean had been skipping breakfast because Cas never paid attention to what he ate in the mornings, he was too busy going on his early runs or cooking up his oats while Dean just slept. That was easy, but when lunch came around he had to eat. And he had to do it in front of Castiel which made it all the worse. Cas usually ate some rice or sweet potatoes for lunch, you know, healthy stuff. Dean wanted to eat something like that too, well, not wanted, he had to, but he couldn’t admit it to Castiel because that would mean he had to tell Cas that he was trying to cut back and he did  _not_ want do that. He was embarrassed and it would’ve been extremely awkward for Dean. He didn’t want to own up to any insecurities. So he still went on eating his usual junk for lunch, but he tried to have less of it and it never worked. By lunch time he was always so fucking starving that he couldn’t hold back. He got himself a load of French fries with a fuck ton of mayo’, yeah, he was one of  _those_ people. People who liked their fries with mayonnaise. He just couldn’t enjoy them with plain ketchup, could he. Something with less calories. And he didn’t only have fries, no, he usually had a hot dog or a burger with it. Occaisonaly a slice of pizza. Drank it all down with some sprite. Sprite zero, but not that it was helping him any.

Castiel didn’t say anything to that. After all, that’s how Dean had always behaved. That was just how Dean was, he loved junk food and it wasn’t any of Cas’s business. He didn’t pay attention to it. Only one thing had changed. Every time Dean was done eating, he excused himself to the bathroom. Castiel didn’t even notice it that much because he was so engrossed in revision or they were just laughing their heads off with Dean and adding Cas’s shitty memory to it all, it didn’t leave much chance for Castiel to figure out that it had become a pattern. A rule. A constant. Dean  _always_  went to the bathroom.

Luckily, for Dean, the bathrooms in the cafeteria were private. He could lock the door and he was the only one there. Sure it was tiny and dirty and gross, but he took what he could get. Every day he was in that bathroom, on his knees, hunching over the toilet, fingers down his throat. Fingers covered in vomit. It only took him about six minutes each time. He went in, he threw up, he cleaned after himself. He washed his hands and then washed his mouth with some water. Then he had a mint. Looked at himself in the mirror. Hated himself. Picked at his face. Raised his hoodie and grabbed at his fat, hoping that there wasn’t as much of it as there had been the day before. There always was though. Or even more fat. He couldn’t tell.

In the evenings Dean didn’t eat anything or if Cas wasn’t home, he still  _binged_ and then threw it all back up. He just couldn’t help himself. He was miserable. Every damn morning he was totally angry with himself for being fat. For  _still_  being fat. For being fatter than he had been at home. For overeating at lunch. For binging the day before if he had done that. For being Dean. Most of all, for having a stupid crush on his _stupid_ roommate.

He even smoked more. He went through a pack in two days or even a single day now. He smoked three cigarettes in the mornings, with his coffee. He had a cigarette or two between every period. He had more at lunch and a few in the evenings. Even Castiel started to comment on it. He commented on how Dean smelled like an ashtray, in a joking kind of way, but Dean still took notice of it. Or he asked Dean if he really did need the second cigarette or if he even needed to go out for a smoke  _again._ Dean just brushed it off.

Dean was anxious and ashamed and hiding so many things. It was clear to Dean, from the calls from home, that things back there were just as shit as they had been when Dean had left and he had left on awful terms. And Sam was alone there. There was no Dean to be John’s punching bag. No Dean to make his little brother laugh. No Dean to keep him safe. And  _Mary._ His mom had to deal with her shitty husband all alone.

_“So you’re really going, huh?” John said to Dean, arms crossed, a stern look in his eyes. He was leaning against the doorframe of Dean’s room. Hair all messed up and beard in full glory. John’s dark flannel shirt was dirty and his biceps were straining it. He was looking at his son and the suitcases beside his bed._

_“Yes, da- John, for the hundredth time, I am going to Darliton, to study there,” Dean said tiredly, sitting on his bed. Then he let himself loose, succumbing into his soft bed, on his back. His plain green tee rode up a little, exposing a little belly. He was looking at the ceiling, wishing that his dad would just leave. He had had enough fights with him about this subject already._

_“Still going to study that art crap?” John asked._

_“Yes,” Dean said bluntly._

_“What a waste of fucking time, kid,” John shook his head. “I’ve always told you that if you’d just listen to me, trained with me like Sam does and not fucking cheated on your diet every chance you get, you could really be someone, Dean.”_

_“John, please,” Dean tried, a lump in his throat._

_“No, you listen to me, son!” John raised his voice, coming closer to Dean. “You’re tall, you’ve got a great build. You’d make an excellent marine. You just need to shed the fat! I’ve told you this so many times, Dean. I don- I don’t get it! Why do just keep pigging out all of time? Do you fucking like being as fat as you are?”_

_“Yeah, I just love it,” Dean spat out sarcastically. His face started to heat up again and his stomach turned and twisted. The lump in his throat got bigger, he felt like throwing up. He just wanted to get out of here._

_“Well, seems like it, Dean!” John yelled, raising his hands in frustration, then settling them on his hips, taking in a deep sigh. “You can still change your mind, Dean. Come on, now. Don’t disappoint me.”_

_“I don’t want to change my mind.” Dean was so sick of it, he had heard this talk, oh, so many times before. He didn’t want to be a marine and he felt shitty for it. Most of the fucking population didn’t want to join the marine corps, but Dean was basically reminded of it every waking minute of his life. John had been a marine himself. He saw it as the only job option. It was honorable and it paid well. Dean really really didn’t want to do it though. He couldn’t imagine being stuffed into a room with other guys and going by a strict regime. It seemed so depressing to him, and lonely. He was depressed and lonely enough, he didn’t want to take those levels any further. He was interested in guns and he was actually a pretty great shot, but that didn’t mean anything. Dean liked books, movies, music and theatre. Dean liked to paint. He wanted to get away from his dad and for once in his life do something he likes to fucking do._

_“Fine, dean! Hope you still fit through the door when you come back for Christmas,” John said with an evil kind of laugh and left the room stomping. Ouch. That hurt Dean, made him think that, yeah, what if he did get so fat over at Darliton that he didn’t fit through the door. He wasn’t even far off. All the talk about the freshman fifteen and all. Dean had to watch out._

_Not a moment after John had left, Mary came into the room._

_“Did- did you hear?” Dean asked sadly. Mary nodded, tears falling from his eyes. She sat next to Dean and put her hand over his shoulder. She was wearing one of her floral summer dresses that suited her just perfectly._

_“Dean, you’re not fat. You’re really not.”_

_“Mom,” Dean whined. “Just don’t.” He was too. He didn’t need the lies. He knew what he was like._

_“Dean, really. Please don’t do anything stupid while you’re away,” Mary begged. “You have to promise me that, Dean. Don’t do what you did a few summers back, okay, sweetie?” Dean winced. In his opinion that was the only thing he did need to do. Quit eating and get in some exercise. And he was going to do exactly that when he reached Darliton. He couldn’t be fat during his college years. He was actually supposed to be skinny already, but somehow he still wasn’t. He still hadn’t managed to do it. How pathetic._

_“I won’t, mom,” Dean lied. Mom just didn’t understand. She was a mom, she saw Dean differently. Dean was fat and everybody in the world fucking knew it. Moms just always see the best in their children, nothing wrong with that._

_“I love you, Dean,” Mary grabbed his son’s face and made him look at her. She smiled, seeing his big green eyes._

 All of those things were eating away at Dean. His insecurities first of all, then the guilt of lying to mom and leaving Sam back there alone. They couldn’t even say goodbye properly because Sam was away on a trip with his friends when he had to leave. But Sam was a feisty kid. And  _Sam_ never had any issues with his weight. Yeah, he was slightly chubby for a few months back when he was twelve, but he got rid of it or more likely, he grew out of it. Sam was taller than Dean, way taller. He followed dad’s training and ate what dad told them to eat. Sam was the good kid. He still got his beatings sometimes, but not nearly as often as Dean.

 

Dean blew a huge smoke cloud out of his nose and mouth, breathing heavily. He was sitting behind their dorm building, having a look at the little community park. It was near the end of November, the winds were chilly and you didn’t see the sun too often. He had clocked in on one hundred and eighty two pounds this morning. It wasn’t ideal, far from it, but it was something. It meant that not keeping his meals down was working, that sometimes not eating for days was working. The whatever he was doing, was  _working_. It made him feel safer, but he knew the more weight he lost, the harder it was going to be. He figured that now was the time to pick up running. He had told himself that countless times now, that he will start running. Tomorrow. Next week. On the weekend. It never happened.

“Hey, Dean,” Cas came to sit next to him, full on in running gear, of course. “What are you doing?” Dean made eyes at him and waved around his cigarette. It was obvious what he was doing.

“You’re in a mood again, I see,” Cas says, his cheeriness leaving him. “What’s it now? Oh, yeah, that’s right, you won’t tell me.”

“Hey, don’t use that tone with me, mister,” Dean said, trying to joke. Castiel didn’t go along with it though.

“Dean… You- you bought that pack today, right?” Castiel pointed at the empty Camel pack squished in Dean’s hand. Dean nodded.

“Deaannn,” Castiel pleaded, looking at his miserable friend who was looking as pale as ever. “I know it’s none of my business, but you didn’t use to smoke so much. That stuff is really bad for you, Dean, and going through a pack a day?”

“You’re right, Cas. None of your business.”

Silence. Dean’s cigarette was out and he pushed the filter into the empty pack in his hand and sighed. Castiel was just looking at him, like he did pretty often. He noticed that his friend’s _cute_ little double chin was gone. It was barely noticeable before, but now there definitely wasn’t one at all. Cas guessed that, yeah, Dean had been looking a little thinner lately, but nothing drastic. He just thought it to be weird since the guy was always eating for two, rather than one when it came to eating. Unhealthy foods at that and he got no exercise either. If Castiel did that he would be sure to gain some weight.  But Dean did seem to be stressed out the last few months, and moody.

And not to mention all the bizarre things Dean said to Castiel while he was too drunk to know any better. Hateful comments about his dad or how he can’t sleep or sentences like “I shouldn’t have eaten that.” or “Cas, I bet I look like Ugly Betty right now, no, no, she would be a model next to me, am I right?” and always assuming Cas hated him. Most of all, the way he throws up after drinking. He throws up  _every single time._ Usually more than once. Did Dean have an alcohol problem? It wasn’t just casual drinking if every time you drank, you needed to vomit. Cas should keep an eye on him next time.

“You know what,” Cas started with a matter-of-fact tone. “It is. It  _is_  my business. You’re my friend, Dean, at least, I think of you as my friend, but I guess you don’t think of me as one, do you?” Cas was feeling hurt that Dean was pushing him away again because he was very fond of Dean. He liked everything about Dean, excluding the smoking and the secrets of course, but everything else was game to him. He liked his jokes, he liked his laugh and he liked his huge smile which he could only see when they were drunk. He liked... Yeah, maybe Castiel was a bit too game about Dean Winchester.

“What?” Dean was surprised. “Of course I do, man. What are you talking about?” Dean looked at him angrily.

“Friends talk to each other,” Castiel said stubbornly.

“We  _talk_ , we talk plenty.”

“No, we don’t Dean. We only talk about insignificant things.”

“Okay. What kind of significant things you want to talk to me about, then, Cas, huh?” Dean humored him. Cas was being stupid. Of course they were friends. Cas was totally cool in Dean’s book. He was the bomb. They went to parties together on the weekends and if they didn’t do that they had the most awesome movie nights. Everybody knew that if Cas was coming, so was Dean and if Dean was coming, surely Cas wouldn’t miss it. And yeah, Dean might’ve liked Cas a little more than he preffered to like  _any_ _guy._

“I want,” Castiel sighed. “I want to know what is troubling you.”

“That is not significant, Cas. That is the opposite. That is the most insignificant thing there is, okay,” Dean said, snorting.

“What?” Cas was bewildered. How could Dean even say that. “What do you mean, Dean? Of course it matters! You haven’t been the same since the bathroom incident. I want to know what is going on.”

“The bathroom incident?” Dean pulled a face. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“What else should I call it?” Cas raised his shoulders. “That was terrifying to me, Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean looked Cas in the eye. “Well, I’m fine, okay. Don’t worry about it. Don’t even have any so called things to talk about, so chill.”

“You’re not fine, Dean,” Cas couldn’t believe his ears. “You smoke a pack a day, you always overdrink and you belittle yourself. That is not okay, Dean.”

“Oh, my Jesus,” Dean threw his head back and grunted. “Don’t be such a drama queen and leave it. I’m  _fine._ ” And with that Dean stood up and walked away. He was out of cigarettes, after all. He needed a new pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And if you enjoyed this chapter, let me know and if you have any ideas or something, you can let me know as well. :) I love long comments or any kind of comments, actually. Please and thank you.


	5. Keeping the Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean keeps running from Cas and pays a visit home where he finds out something not at all pleasing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaargh, shitters of fuck, I know I'm horrible like most of the fic writers sometimes are and just disappear on you, but my motivation was like minus, I really didn't feel like writing at all and always hated what I wrote and I had to do boring school stuff all at once 'cause I procrastinated the whole year. So there, the excuses and also sorry this chapter is also probably horrible, 'cause I forced myself to write it finally, 'cause someone said they were dying and I was like "shit Rexxie get it together now, you promised them weekly updates".  
> SO HERE IT IS, KIND OF SHORT AND WEIRD, but I hope you enjoy.

 Saturday, the next weekend. Cas was already sleeping when Dean finally came in. It was about 5 in the morning and Dean was so far from sober. Castiel heard his friend stumbling and then falling to the ground with a whispered _ow_.

„Dean?“ Castiel turned his desk lamp on and looked at his friend who was sitting on the ground and staring at him with huge eyes. Cas got up from the bed and closed the door behind Dean, then locked it.

„Hello Cassiiee,“ Dean said, trying to get up. Cas went to help his friend stand up, offering him his hand.

„Dean, you’re drunk.“

„Deeeannnn, yar drankk,“ Dean mocked his friend in a high pitched voice, then laughed. „Chillax, Cas, please, I am _not_ drunk, jus’ tipsy.“ Dean sat on Castiel’s bed, his friend looking down at him, hands crossed. Castiel’s dark hair was messy and he only had his boxers on, his flat abs and pale skin exposed to Dean.

„Sure,“ Castiel rolled his eyes and then kept looking at his mess of a friend, mouth pouty and anger in his eyes.

„What?“ Dean raised his shoulders.

„What do you mean _what_ , Dean?“

„What’s your problem?“

„You are in my bed, Dean.“

„Yeah? So? There’s room,“ Dean smiled. Castiel sighed and sat next to his friend, a strong scent of cigarettes and vomit washing over him.

„You smell, Dean,“ Cas squinted his nose.

„You smell _good_ ,“ Dean said, looking down at Castiel’s almost naked body, licking his lips. Dean was starting to feel a little tingly downstairs, but luckily he was way too intoxicated to get hard. And way too intoxicated to get self-conscious about his body. Castiel noticed how Dean’s military green jacket had vomit stripes all over the end of his sleeves.

„You’ve been throwing up again,“ Cas looked into Dean’s wonderfully green eyes. Dean stared at his friend for a bit, for a few short seconds, then turned away.

„When do I not do that, Cas?“ he asked sarcastically.

„Yeah, I agree,“ Cas nodded and started to take off Dean’s jacket. Surprisingly, Dean didn’t protest. Underneath Dean had his usual baggy flannel shirt which was actually pretty clean and not ruined, so Cas decided to leave that on and just threw the jacket into the laundry bin.

„Wait, wha’, you agree? Wha-what do you mean?“

„I _mean_ , that every time you drink, you throw up,“ Castiel sat back into the bed, facing Dean, folding his knees.

„Oh, yeah,“ Dean muttered under his breath. „Hey, what’s wit’ you anyay’, Cas? You been _sooooo_ weird the past week,“ Dean asked, leaning back into the bed, trying to get the cigarette pack out of his front pocket. His shirt rode up, exposing how the jeans around his waist were all squished into folds, making it clear that the pants were only being kept up by the belt. Cas noticed, instantly furrowing his brow.

„Dean, have you lost weight?“ Cas asked. Dean, already lighting his cigarette, halted to a stop, eyes in a frozen state, only looking in front of him. He let out a breath and lighted the cig, inhaling the smoke immediately.

„Wha’? No,“ Dean pulled a face, exhaling, filling the room with smoke.

„Why are your jeans so huge on you then?“

„Ummmmm,“ Dean started, desperately trying to think of something, „Beeeecaauuuss I.... Well... Uhh, ohh, yea, dude, not even my jeans, man, they’re Sam’s.“ He smiled at Cas, quite proud of himself for coming up with a suiting lie on the spot.

„And you’re wearing Sam’s jeans because...“

„Because!“ Dean just shouted. Castiel looked at him, confused, but decided that it wasn’t important. He’d rather talk about what’s up with Dean in general.

„I am _mad_ , Dean, because you are ignoring me.“

„I am not!“ Dean refused, „You’re the one who’s been all distant the past week, but like, kay, you know? Don’t wanna talk, kay, I understand, I wouldn’t wanna talk to me eitha’.“

„No,“  Castiel insisted. „It’s not that at all.“ How could Dean even think that? Castiel has been far off because Dean won’t talk to him about anything and he kept disappearing, smoking and drinking way more often than it’s anywhere near _not_ totally self-destructive.

„I just really want to know what’s going on with you.”

„Oh my god, Cassss,“ Dean threw the cigarette stump to the floor and sighed, frustrated. „Doo not even, kay, with that shit again, there is _nothing_ going on with me.“ Dean got up from the bed, removed his boots and fell into his bed, immediately covering himself with his blanket. Cas just looked at him, disappointed that his friend once again blew him off. He tried to fall asleep himself, but the worry over his friend wouldn’t let him. After staring at the ceiling for a few hours, he decided to get up and go on his Sunday morning run.

 

It was a cold winter night and Dean was in his Impala, driving towards _home._ The road was slippery and it kept snowing, there weren’t that many cars on the road either. Probably because Dean decided to leave for home at 2AM. Things with Cas had gotten too intense and he couldn’t bare it anymore. He couldn’t stand the way Castiel looked at him, couldn’t stand the questions and the prying and the “Please, Dean. Talk to me.” Since he couldn’t sleep, he decided to just go home. It was winter break and Christmas was in a few days, by then he had to be home anyway.

Cas was sleeping when he had left, Dean didn’t bother to wake him up and tell him. In the morning they had had one of those big fights again. Dean had showed up drunk during the night and thrown up in the toilet, forgetting to clean up after himself. _Fucking stupid._ Cas had  to clean it up and after he had done that, he had woken up Dean and started, once again, asking all sorts of annoying questions that Dean refused to answer to.

Yeah, their friendship had been pretty fucked up recently. They hadn’t even gone to parties together. Dean always went  by himself and Cas didn’t go at all, saying he needed to study and so on. Truth is, Dean actually missed Cas, missed hanging out with him, but the stubborn guy was so set on wanting to find out everything about him. And Dean didn’t roll that way. He didn’t do friendships like that. Besides, he was sure that if Cas did find out about half the things Dean did, he would ditch him immediately. And Dean liked Cas, he didn’t want for that to happen. Dean was set on keeping the curtains closed.

The closer he got to his house, the more nervous he got. He hadn’t talked to Sam in a long time. John didn’t let them talk to each other. Supposedly, Dean was a bad influence on him. He was a little bit excited over seeing Sam again and getting to talk to his mom, but he was so much more anxious over seeing John. He was also afraid as to what Mary would say when he sees him, he _has_ lost quite a lot of weight.

Dean was one hundred and seventy pounds. Dean hadn’t eaten anything in 3 days, excluding the binge he had had the night before that he successfully threw up along with the alcohol. He had started to go on runs as well. He just told Cas that he was going for a walk and a smoke, but instead he went on runs. Sure, running in a winter coat, on a slippery as fuck road wasn’t ideal, but Dean liked it. He liked being cold, not feeling how sweaty he actually was and just running until he couldn’t feel his legs anymore.

 

“Oh, Dean”, Mary showed up to the door, it was barely eight in the morning. Mary was still wearing her nightgown. The smell of fresh coffee made its way to Dean. He inhaled more of it, really craving some. Mary gave him a strong hug, rocking Dean a little bit left and right.

“Hi, mom,” Dean smiled. Mary backed away, looking at his son.

“You look so skinny,” Mary said and Dean blushed, looking to the ground.

“Naw, mom, I have just been training a little bit,” Dean denied, “It’s a good way to relieve stress. May I come in?”

“Yes, yes, of course, Dean. Come on in,” Mary stepped back, letting Dean in. She closed the door. Dean dropped his bag to the floor and made his way to the kitchen where John was sitting. John lowered the newspaper he was reading and had a look at his son, squinting his eyes.

“Hello, Dean,” he said sternly. “Nice to see you’ve finally shed _some_ of the fat again.”

“Yeah, hi to you too, John,” Dean said and took a seat at the table. Dean asked for some coffee. Mary happily complied, already starting to add cream when Dean put his hand over the cup and shook his head.

“No, thank you, mom,” Dean smiled. Mary put the cream back on the table, looking at his son with worry in his eyes, but not daring to comment while John was in the room.

“Dean,” Mary said, also sitting down, taking a sip of her coffee. “Tell me, how’s university? How is everything going for you?” Mary beamed at his handsome son that was looking a little thin to her liking, but it was nothing drastic. She decided to talk to Dean about it later, when John wasn’t around. John went back to reading his newspaper and Dean went on and told Mary what he could about Darliton. Of course leaving everything out regarding the partying, smoking and fighting with Cas.

 

When Dean was done talking to his mom and pushing around the omelet on his plate, he decided to go and surprise Sam. He opened the door to Sam’s room and saw Sam totally knocked out, his gangly legs hanging over the bed. With a few long hurried steps he went on and jumped on top of Sam and yelled: “Goooood mooorning, Sammy!”

“Wha-What the fuck?” was Sam startled, trying to seek escape from Dean, but Dean had got a hold of his hands, so it wasn’t as easy to free himself as he had expected.

“D-Dean?” came a muffled sound.

“Yup!”

“Argh, get your fat ass off me!” Sam pleaded. Dean’s stomach did a flip hearing the words _fat ass_ and he got right off of Sam. _He didn’t mean it like that._

“Dean! Hey! What are you doing here?” was Sam excited, he got up from his bed and embraced his brother, Dean almost drowning in his huge hands.

“Woah, dude, what ever happened to you?” Dean asked. Sam was so much taller than him. Yeah, he used to be a _little_ taller, but now Dean had to basically look up at him.

“I don’t know, growth spurt, “ Sam distended himself from Dean, shrugging. Dean also noticed Sam’s washboard abs and strong arms. Jealousy started to plant itself inside him. _Great, everybody around me are easily made of rock and then there’s me, all soft and doughy like a girl._

“Same goes to you, dude,” Sam gave Dean’s shoulder a slight punch, frowning. “You’ve really…”

“Yea, yea, yeah,” Dean interrupted, waving his hand, gesturing that it didn’t matter. “You better tell me what’s been up with _you_.” He sat down in Sam’s desk chair, putting his elbows on his knees. Sam told him to wait and threw on a T-shirt and jeans.

Sam told him about how he’s doing great in school and that he has a girlfriend, Jessica, that he really likes, hinting that it might even be love. He told Dean some hilarious stories about him and his friends and Dean was really happy to hear all about it. Dean told Sam a little about Darliton and Cas and the great parties they’ve had.

“But, how’s dad been?” Dean finally asked, looking straight at his brother. Sam shrugged.

“The usual, real strict, but I don’t mind it really. I’d work out no matter what, the chicks dig it, especially _Jess_ ,” Sam beamed, nodding. Dean laughs a little.

“Right you are, Sammy.”

“But, hey, Dean, what about you?” Sam asked, concern in his eyes. “Have you lost the weight _the healthy_ way?” Dean’s heart skipped a beat and then started to beat a little faster.

“W-What?”

“I’m not _stupid,_ Dean,” Sam’s look was stern. “I know what you do and what you _have done_.”

“Yeah, and what is that exactly?” Dean defenses went up, he straightened his back and crossed his arms. 

“I don’t know, not eating for example,” Sam said, a bit of sarcasm in his tone. Dean just stared at him, not daring to say anything.

“The vomiting,” Sam said next with raised eyebrows. Dean’s heart was going crazy and he could feel himself sweating. He didn’t know that Sam knew. He had no idea. He only thought that Mary knew and Mary didn’t know anything about him throwing up his food.

“What are you talking about? What do you mean _vomiting_?” Dean scoffed.

“I have _heard_ you.”


	6. Home is a Difficult Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean doesn't like it at home that much. He likes Castiel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it's not too cheesy and dramatic, but that's all I can do right now. And I'm sorry for not exploring more into the Dean/Cas pairing in the beginning, I really regret it because right now it feels really random, but this is my FIRST fan fiction so I hope you forgive me, I'm definitely planning on writing more fanfics after this one.  
> Hope you enjoy, at least a little bit. :(   
> And thank you for the comments. Makes me feel cool. :3

Dean’s cheeks got totally flushed and his heart started to beat even faster than it already was. His world kind of started to crash and burn right in front of him. His mouth went dry and all the words and all the lies he once knew were wiped from his mind. Sam was just staring at him with his child like green eyes, expecting. He was expecting for an answer, an explanation, but it wasn’t coming. There was none. Dean wasn’t just about to admit that yeah, he was like one of those teenage girls in Sam’s high school that threw up his food.

“Dean?” Sam asked, his eyes enlarging even more. Dean just coughed.

“Uh… Uhm, Sam, what… what are you even implying?” Dean’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t look Sam in the eye.

“That, I don’t know, if you still do it or what, but that you throw up your food after you’ve eaten too much or anything at all. Like… you’re anorexic or something,” Sam said, his tone so fucking apprehensive and serious it was digging into Dean like razors.  “They’ve shown us videos about it in school,” Sam added, hurriedly.

“ _Anorexic_?” Dean repeated with a loud voice then laughed a little to himself. “I don’t know if you need a pair of glasses or what, but I am not _anorexic_.” The last word was said with ridiculous disbelief and tread.

“Oh, so you _don’t_ think you’re fat and what you just said now totally _wasn’t_ you implying that you can’t be anorexic because you’re not thin or whatever.” Dean’s mouth fell open at that and he was just glaring at Sam because how fucking dare he. How fucking dare he talk about this subject with such fucking ease like they were discussing what they wanted to do tonight or something like that.

“Sam, shut the fuck up, okay.”

“Uh, no,” Sam started, his voice going higher like it does when someone says “duh” , “I won’t shut up, ‘cause you just got back from college and you’ve dropped like, I don’t know, dare I say, 20 pounds and I’d just like to know if you’re okay. If my big brother did it in a sensible way, like normal people do?”

“Yeah, okay, I did it in _sensible_ way, so calm your vagina, all right and most of all, leave me alone,” Dean got up from the chair and stormed out of the room before his brother could protest. Without saying a word to his mom or John, he went out of the house. His hands were already grabbing for his cigarettes. Once outside, he lit one of the cigarettes and went for a walk, his space rather speedy.

_Who the fuck was Sam? Who the fuck does he think he is? If he knew everything already, why had he not mentioned anything before, what kind of sick tactics were at play here? And, twenty pounds? Is that really all that’s showing, that I’ve lost a mere twenty pounds? He says that to me and then accuses me of being anorexic? Like, hell, no shit that I’m not anorexic and yeah it’s because I’m not even close thin. And I don’t starve myself for god’s sake, I eat all the damn time, that’s the problem. I wish, really, that I was anorexic, that I’d have control like that._

 

A pack of cigarettes and a bottle of scotch later, Dean was back, stumbling onto the front porch, sitting down onto the bench there. The moment he sat his ass down Sam was there. It was pretty cold outside, but Dean couldn’t feel it. The alcohol in his system did a fine job of warming him up.

“Where have you been?” Sam asked with slight anger. “Oh, my god, Dean, are you drunk? Dude, what the fuck, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Dean just looked at his brother, his head kind of dizzy and he had no realization of whether Sam was mad at him or not. He smiled at him, face dumb.

“Dean!” Sam shouted, waving his hands. “I can’t believe you.”

“Qui’ you’ whinin’,” Dean mumbled.

 

When Dean finally woke up the day after, he didn’t remember anything. He went to the kitchen, his hair sticking up in all kinds of directions and his mouth so dry it felt like it was bleeding. He was in his oversized boxers and a black T-shirt which was of course oversized as well. Sam was eating cereal and looking at his brother, analyzing him.

“Hi,” he said with a cold voice. Dean jumped at that.

“Yeah, hi,” Dean grabbed a bottle of water from the counter and started to gulp it down. Sam was still looking right at Dean, not paying attention to his food.

“So, what’s on the agenda today, Sammy?” Dean asked after finishing the entire bottle of water.

“I don’t know, maybe discussing what…” Sam couldn’t finish his sentence because mom entered the kitchen, smiling. Spotting Dean she went right to hug him.

“My skinny-skinny boy,” Mary said, gripping her boy tight which made Dean realize that he was just in a tee and boxers. Dean stiffened. Everybody could see how fat he actually was now. At least Sam would definitely understand that Dean was so far from being anorexic, seeing him almost naked like this. Mary pulled away from the hug and started to grab Dean’s stomach.

“Oh, Sam, look at how skinny he is!” she exclaimed, still grabbing at Dean’s stomach and Dean went red in the face. He started to block Mary’s hand as best he could. He was so uncomfortable, he just wished he could disappear. Why would his mother say that to him? Especially then, when his fatness was exposed to the world. Dean shifted away and covered his stomach with his arms. He crossed his legs and sunk into the corner of the counters, trying to make himself as small as possible.

“Yeah, I know Dean’s skinny,” Sam said, clenched his jaw and started to eat his cereal again. Dean pulled his hand over his face, praying that the situation would be over already.

“Nah, nah, I’m not _that_ skinny,” Dean said nervously. He _wasn’t_ , he was barely even normal. “Mom just likes me better fat,” Dean tried to joke.

“Nonsense!” was Mary startled, “I like you and love you anyway you are, I’m just worried about you.”

“And why is that, mom?” Sam asked, very interested, even if he already knew the answer.

“Guys,” Dean closed his eyes, “Just stop, okay.”

“Sam…” Mary started, looking sadly at Sam and then at Dean. “You know how Dean can be. He’s a very determined boy and can easily overdo it, like he did when he was your age.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Sam agreed and tossed his spoon into the now empty bowl. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Don’t we all?”

“Okay, okay, just stop it, okay,” Dean said, annoyed. “I _am_ okay, I am totally fine, I’ve just lost some weight, I’ve been training, I just wanted to be fit, is that really so bad?” He looked at his mom and brother then added:  “Am I supposed to stuff my face and be a fat ass forever, is that what you guys want for me?”

“No, no, Dean,” Mary said. “You’re getting this all…”

“Then quit nagging me!” Dean said angrily, “I will go for a run, jeez’.”

“But Dean, it’s freezing outside!” Mary managed to say before Dean was out of the kitchen.

 

Dean was in his room getting changed into his sweats when Sam came striding into his room.

“Not gonna’ have breakfast before you go?” Sam asked.

“No,” dean said bluntly.

“You’re not fooling me, Dean,” Sam said, “You didn’t lose the weight just by training, I can tell. Maybe I used to be too scared to mention anything before, but I’m not planning on letting it slide any longer, ‘cause I care about you.”

“What the fuck can you _tell_ , Sam?” Dean looked up at him, tying up his Nikes.

“Yeah, okay, you may be a healthy weight, but you’re definitely _not_ healthy. Your complexion is fucked, your eyes are bloodshot, even your hair is falling out!” Sam raised his voice then stared at his brother who was still determined to go for a run. He expected Dean to say something, but when he didn’t, he continued: “That isn’t how someone who is just getting fit looks like, Dean!”

Dean just glared at his brother, put his earphones on and stormed out of the house, already running.

 

That night at the dinner table it was pretty awkward. Dean had been gone for 2 hours in the morning and it was clear to Mary that he hadn’t eaten anything at all the whole day. They were having mashed potatoes and some red meat. Sam had heaped a colossal amount of food to his place and was just munching away, enjoying his food. Telling Mary how good it was. Sam had been out with Jessica so he and Dean hadn’t managed to talk yet. Mary had put quite a helping of food to Dean’s plate as well, but the boy was just staring at it and pushing it around. He couldn’t eat. If he ate, he wouldn’t be able to stop and then he would have to go throw it up and he couldn’t do that when, apparently, his fucking brother was onto him.

“Feeling alright, honey?” Mary asked.

“’m fine,” Dean basically whispered under his breath.

“Eat your food, Dean,” John announced with a loud voice. “Your mom spent time making it.” Mary smiled nervously. Dean felt anger rising in him because all his life he heard John say “Don’t eat.” or “Dean, should you really be eating that?” or even “If you finish that plate, I’ll give you a beating myself.” And now? Now he was getting mad at Dean for _not_ eating? Could Dean get anything right? Dean took a bite and chewed his food, slowly.

“Dean, come on, now. Don’t go all _girly_ on me again and stop eating all together. We don’t wanna repeat what happened a few summers back, okay?” John said, his voice stern. Dean closed his eyes tiredly because that’s what he was, he was _tired_. He was just so fucking sick and tired of hearing about that god forsaken summer all the time. He actually started to miss Cas and his questioning, at least he was nice about it. At home he just felt attacked.

After another 10 minutes, Dean’s plate was still rather full and John had a death glare on him.

“Dean, you are ruining this fucking dinner,” John said, his breathing getting faster and louder. “And now I have to hear your mom nagging me about how _I_ am the reason for your girly as shit eating habits. Get a grip, Dean. It’s just food. Eat it.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to eat,” Dean said, testing John.

“I never said that,” John declared, scratching his beard. “I _said_ to not eat as much, not to stop eating all to _fuckin_ gether!” John hit his fist hard against the table, making the dishes on the dinner table tremble. Mary flinched and covered her mouth with her hands, anxious. Sam was just observing.

“Fuck this,” Dean spat out and rose from the table. “I am going back to Darliton.”

“ _Dean!”_ Mary and Sam shouted together.

“What?!” Dean shouted back at them.

“It’s Christmas tomorrow!” Mary said, eyes apologetic.

“Fuck. Your. Fucking. Christmas.”

“Yeah, go-go, _chubby_ ,” John spat out, insulted. Sam shot John an angry look, eyes narrowed then he got up and went after Dean.

“Dude, c’mon, you can’t take him seriously?!” Sam came into Dean’s room and saw that, yeah, Dean was taking John seriously because Dean was packing his things. Dean once again just stayed quiet and carried on packing.

“Whatever, Sam,” Dean said finally, his packed bag in his hands. “I don’t care, I’m not taking him seriously, I just wanna get out of here.” But he was. Dean was taking John seriously. The remark _chubby_ was engraved into his soul now, among the hundred other remarks from John. “And, tell mom I love her and that I am fine and if _you_ wanna talk to me about anything other than my fucking _weight_ then hit me up on facebook or something. Let’s keep in touch, alright?” He shot Sam a weak smile and was out the door, a cigarette already in his mouth.

 

When Dean reached the dorm Cas wasn’t there and Dean’s gut was filled with disappointment and loneliness. Cas said he was going to visit his parents over Christmas, like the rest of the students. The dorm building was a ghost town. Dean flicked on the light and sighed. He was supposed to be with his family during Christmas as well, but so much for that.

The same night, when Dean had already given well into his self-destructive tendencies of binging on food and alcohol, he heard the dorm room open. It was Castiel.

“Dean?” Castiel asked when he saw Dean behind his desk, watching a movie. Looking closer, he also spotted a bottle of cheap rum and _a lot_ of food wrappers. Castiel sighed, he knew his friend was drunk again and he had to take care of him, but he took care of him willingly. It was Dean. He’d always help him out. This time it was a bit more complicated though. Dean wasn’t the only one who was drunk.

“Heya’, Cas,” Dean waved and giggled. “Sorry for the mess, I’m jus’ bein’ a fat ass again.”

“Dean, you’re not a fat ass,” Castiel said, furrowing his brow. He came closer to Dean and noticed that Dean hadn’t shaved in a few days and had the sexiest stubble. Dean looked up at him for a while, into those big blue eyes that were gleaming by the dim light, only Dean’s desk lamp was on. Suddenly Dean rose up from the chair, to be level with Castiel. Dean was slightly taller than Cas, but only slightly.

“Hey,” Dean said, smiling, then stumbling a little backwards because balancing himself was proving to be difficult.

“You’re not a fat ass, Dean,” Cas said again and grabbed Dean’s face into his hands, feeling his stubble and made a little _mmmh_ noise. Dean’s breath got stuck in his throat and he closed his eyes, not bearing the beauty of Cas. Both of them were breathing heavily. “I don’t even know why you would think that, I don’t get it, Dean, please.” Their foreheads sunk together, there was only Dean’s movie on the background, but suddenly the only thing both of them could hear was their own breathing and heartbeats. Crazy heartbeats that both shyly, but strongly beat only for one another.

Castiel got closer and all of a sudden they were in a hug and this time Dean didn’t have the time or the state of mind to even think about his body. To think about the fact that he had just binged on chips and pizza and his stomach hurt and was distended. He was just in the moment, there with Cas. All of the denying and keeping far away from Cas, all of that just disappeared in a few flimsy seconds and he just let himself be. Cas smelled so good, there was a hint of pine to him. Dean just inhaled him, all of him and concentrated on Cas’ hands around him. Cas’ hands started to move, to Dean’s hair and he started to ruffle them and Cas pulled away, to have look at those round green eyes. Cas didn’t understand why those eyes were so sad and wet.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, “Are you all right?” Dean shook his head. Castiel continued to look at him, to take in his dark circles and pale skin. He pushed the boy slightly, to Dean’s bed. Dean went along with it, he sat down to his bed and Castiel had one knee between Dean’s legs and the other next to it. He was still holding onto Dean’s face. “Why are you so sad?” Castiel asked, to which Dean’s eyes immediately closed again, a deep sigh, but he didn’t say anything. Castiel pushed himself closer and began to feel Dean’s erection against his knee, but he wasn’t quite sure, so he pressed himself forward and once he was sure that Dean was rock hard for him, he took in a sharp breath.

“Dean,” Castiel said again, cheeks flushed. “Do you want me?” It was an awkward question, but Dean was too drunk to know any better and he just nodded, without opening his eyes and he felt all hot and bothered and he wasn’t even sure if this was real. Cas leaned in and pressed a kiss on Dean’s plump lips. He tasted of rum and pizza which made Cas chuckle lightly, his hands moved from Dean’s hair to his neck, then his arms, then down to Dean’s hips. Dean’s hands were just limply by his side, he didn’t dare to move, he was afraid of ruining this. Cas’ hands started slip under Dean’s shirt, they were ice cold and suddenly Dean woke again. Dean’s whole body went rigid and he pulled away.

“Cas, what… what are you doing?” he asked, scared and shaky. Castiel’s skin mesmerizing in the dim light.

“I thought you said you wanted me,” Castiel responded, confusion in his big blue eyes. Dean shook his head.

“No, I mean, yes, but no, you _do not_ want me,” Dean said. Then Dean hiccupped and he remembered his binge and his cheeks got a bit redder than they already were. He excused himself and took a few rough steps to the bathroom and locked the door. Castiel was left alone on Dean’s bed, helpless and wondering. In a few minutes he could hear Dean throwing up in the bathroom. Castiel pressed his eyes shut, a little bit angry because Dean was throwing up _again_. Castiel turned around and once again saw all the empty food rappers. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that Dean was bulimic… But he couldn’t be, he was _Dean_ , he _did_ have low self-esteem, but nothing like that, right? Then again, all of the negative comments Dean was always throwing at his body, even now, just a moment ago, Dean had called himself a fat ass, but Castiel had always assumed that it was just a figure of speech for him. Dean didn’t seem the type, at all, but the more Castiel thought about the more it made sense. Castiel shook his head, praying to all the gods above that he was _wrong._  


	7. Meanwhile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's mind is getting a bit wackier, his body thinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick little update! A bit of this was sitting on my computer for the longest time and today I added some more and I haven't proof read, but I'm just going to get something out! JESUS HOW I APOLOGIZE FOR THE DELAY! I wasn't even at home the whole of July (I have a desktop, shit, I know, I should get with the times), so I couldn't write and now I'm working literally 12 hours a day, every day. It's like 2AM currently and I have to get up in 5 hours.  
> Thanks a lot of tons tho! For the comments! I thought everyone had forgotten about this ole' story, but I saw the comments and was like, damn gurrl, you better get something up ASAP.  
> So, here it is, so not worth the wait, but still NOT abandoning the work. <3 You guys cute af.

Dean opened his eyes to Castiel’s groggy voice calling his name and a coffee in his face. His head was pounding and he was feeling rather nauseous. Dean rose up a little from the bed and tried to clear his voice, but he still felt like something was stuck in his throat, but then again, he _always_ felt like that. He shook it off and took the cup from Castiel’s hand. Cas wasn’t wearing a shirt, his washboard abs and smooth skin all exposed to Dean’s _wanting_ eyes, but when Dean noticed his pajama pants, the i-am-getting-turned-on vibe disappeared into thin air. Cas was wearing festive pants. With reindeers on them. Full on red pants with reindeers in all shapes and sizes and his socks were dark green and furry or fluffy or whatever the creepy material was made of. Dean blinked a few times, taking it all in. Castiel just stood there, towering over him.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said, expecting. Dean was getting a weird aura from him and he wasn’t sure why. He took a sip of his coffee and the moment the hot liquid hit his mouth he realized it had cream in it. Dean spit it out immediately, back into the coffee. Fucking no way was he wasting his calories on cream. Drinking the whole cup would’ve equaled to about _fifty_ calories.

“Was it really that bad?” Cas asked, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I, myself, thought it was excellent.” Dean looked up at him.

“Uhm,” he said, finally sitting fully up from the bed, thankful for his oversized black tee covering him. “I drink my coffee black, you know.” Sitting up like that sent a new wave of nausea over him and he shut his eyes, willing it to go over.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine,” Dean waved his worry away. He couldn’t recall anything from last night, oddly enough. He knew that he came back to his dorm, ‘cause things back at home were just unbearable for him. He had gotten some whiskey and _food_ from the store, but that’s it. That’s as far as his memory would reach.

“Dude?” Dean asked, “What happened last night?”

“I came back here to a very intoxicated Dean Winchester,” his roommate said, sitting down onto Dean’s desk chair next to his bed. Dean saw how Castiel’s body didn’t even change a tiny bit with him sitting down. His abdominal muscles were still in full view, not a inch of fat covering them or a fat roll poking over his jeans. Dean sucked in his stomach. “You were watching some movie unknown to me about a guy and his dad and you were snacking on a ton of food, all without _me,_ might I just mention. I mean. You could’ve invited me.”

“What, dude, like, you were back home, I thought, why would I even? Besides, I thought you didn’t even want to hang out anymore.”

“I do want to hang out with you, Dean. I want it a lot, but I find it difficult to do if you’re so secretive all the time.” Dean rolled his eyes at that.

“I am _so_ not secretive!”

“All right,” Cas sighed and decided to let that go, looking to the ground, “I wanted to ask you a question though.” Dean got anxious hearing that, but nodded him to go on and placed the coffee of sin onto his desk.

“Do you have an eating disorder?”

Silence. Dean didn’t even know where to begin with the damage control. His mouth fell open and heart went crazy and hands got sweaty. _Way to have fucking tact, Cas._

“Because, I’ve noticed some behaviors and-and I just thought I’d ask,” Castiel continued, his talking space fastening bit by bit, “I’ve already been bugging you enough about proper nutrition and health in general lately, I _know_ that was part of the reason you left so suddenly a few days ago, but I’ve been thinking about it, maybe even too abundantly, but it seems to me you’re bulimic Dean, I should’ve noticed it sooner to be honest. After all, it _is_ my major, but, yes, I just thought I’d check with you.” Cas looked up at Dean, eyes wide and sad.

“I-I’m not,” Dean just said, hurriedly. No way in hell was he admitting this to Cas, if there was anything to admit anyway. Dean sure had heard of bulimia before, yeah, but he wouldn’t call himself a _bulimic_. Because he wasn’t. He just wasn’t. Bulimia was a girl’s disease. What he did was completely something else and besides, he actually _did_ need to lose weight. He wasn’t like one of the girls trying to lose some invisible pounds. The pounds were there. And lots of them.

“Dean…”

“I’m not!” Dean exclaimed, “I don’t know what you’re talking about and why it is that you think I have some teenage girl’s made up disease for attention seeking, I don’t understand, Cas, where is this coming from?”

“Males get eating disorders too, Dean,” Cas said in a matter of fact tone and then actually went on to add that in today’s society the percentage of eating disordered in males was quickly increasing.

“Yeahhhh,” Dean made eyes at Cas, “I _know_ , great for them, but I am fine, sure, like, _sure,_ Cas, I sometimes may drink too much and too often and smoke a few too many cigarettes, but that’s that, now, can we stop this shitty ass conversation, _please?”_ Cas took in a deep breath, not sure whether to believe his friend or not, but decided to leave it for the moment and just keep a closer eye on him. He knew perfectly well how in denial people with eating disorders could be. He got up and made Dean a new cup of coffee, completely black and offered him breakfast which he refused, making Castiel’s suspicions grow.

 

Castiel didn’t dare to bring up the topic of the kiss. It seemed like Dean didn’t remember at all or at least didn’t want to remember. He just wanted Dean to okay, but that’s not what Dean wanted. Dean just wanted to be thin, not really realizing that he was already kind of there, weighing in on just a pound short from 170.

He started to throw away food, knowing that Cas was watching him. His friend wasn’t exactly subtle about it either. In the mornings Cas would stare at him, look in his eyes somewhat proud and daring. On some days Cas went as far as making Dean breakfast himself. Oatmeal. Granola. Omelets consisting only of egg whites. Lemon water. Whole wheat bread with avocado on it. Smoothies. Fruit bowls. Cas was shoving nutritious food to Dean’s face every morning he had the chance. The mornings he actually managed to wake up before Dean was gone which was proving to be more difficult by the week since Dean started to go off earlier and earlier. Telling Cas that he just liked to have a walk and a cigarette in the morning. Or that he had to go to the library to study, but in reality Dean would go on a run and shower at the gym and then go to school. Even though Dean could’ve totally used some library time, his grades were dropping. Especially in his Islamic Architecture class. Dean didn’t really care for Architecture. Or Islam. Pretty often, sleep deprived as he was, slept trough the class and he wasn’t really putting in effort to study in his spare time. All his efforts went into planning and scheming.

How to eat less, but make it seem like he was eating like a totally functional human being. How to manage the stress of school, of Cas’ prying and Sam’s ridiculous Skype conversations and the hunting memories of the winter break. He still didn’t know how to push the thought “I’m fat” out of his mind for _one god damned second_. Or all the insults he had ever gotten. From John. From kids at his old school.  From countless family reunions. They were constantly cycling through his mind and that made him all the more determined to _not eat._

The only way Dean knew how to deal was by stuffing himself so full he could barely move and then get it all back up, but he didn’t get to do that as much. Cas was always on him. With him. Talking to him. He was everywhere, anytime.

Dean and Cas could be on one of those Star Trek marathons or be watching classic movies, eating pizza, snacking on chips and drinking beer. Dean of course, starving and stressed out of his mind, could hardly control himself on times like that and went all out and then be left into an aftermath of pure guilt and feeling ten pounds heavier, fatter, bigger. He had to get it out and he always did. He’d say he was tired, felt disgustingly dirty.

“I’mma hit the shower, Cas, was a fun night,” he’d say. Cas was clueless. Despite his knowledge on eating disorders and how secretive people could be, he didn’t think a person would throw up in the shower. That’s what Dean did. Hunching over the shower drain, fingers down his throat, heaving, but not making any noise.

 

Dean was 154 pounds and Cas was starting to notice his weight loss, despite Dean always being wrapped up in clothes a couple of sizes too big for him.

“Have you lost weight, Dean?” Castiel asked one night. They were once again sitting in the park behind their dorm building. He noticed how Dean’s wrists were smaller and jaw was sharper. How his clothes that were once fitting, were huge on the boy.

“Yeah, maybe, I dunno,” Dean admitted in a very cool kind of way. Trying to make it seem that he didn’t care.

“All those movie nights and parties and you manage to drop weight,” he said, voice joking.

“Uhh, yeah, lucky me, I guess.”

“Why lucky?” He was trying to figure out if Dean had actually wanted to lose weight. Cas had basically given up the thought of Dean having an eating disorder by then, after all, Dean wasn’t _the type_ , but noticing how thin Dean was getting, his suspicions grew again.

“Not like I can’t afford to lose a few pounds, anyway,” Dean said quite fast, Cas barely grabbing onto to the words.

“What do you mean?”

Dean was getting uncomfortable, but at the same time he was more comfortable with Cas that he had ever been with anyone. He didn’t feel like hiding the insecurity anymore, sure Cas would understand and maybe even help him to lose the pounds.

“News flash, Cas,” Dean said, laughing, “I’m pretty _chubby_ , to put it mildly.”


	8. The Denial and the Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean won't admit to anything and Castiel won't understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How does time work. I haven't got a clue. Time's just crazy and I meant to update this after a week or so but somehow a whole month flew by and I'm back in school. This world be cray.   
> Hate me 'cause I'm slow, just hate me.   
> But I love you and your comments. <3

“Excuse me?” Castiel was taken aback. “ _You_ are _chubb_ y? To put it _mildly?_ You mean that you’re _mildly_ chubby or _almost_ chubby or… Is your wording correct, Dean?”

“Cas,” Dean said, his cheeks getting tinted red because the embarrassment of the conversation was sinking in. “C’mon now.”

“C’mon what?”

“Don’t make me say it…” Dean sighed, looking to the ground.

“Say what? Dean, you’re really, really confusing me. I mean, you’re not chubby, not even mildly chubby as you seem to be implying right now.” Cas made a dissing “pfft” noise, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dean was getting angry, he could feel, once again, his heartbeat picking up and his face going redder and his mind racing. “I’m not a child, Cas! You can say it.”

Castiel stood up from the bench. “Say what?! Tell me, Dean, what do you want me to say?”

“I don’t _want_ you to say it or say _anything_ for that matter, but it’s still true. I don’t get why you’re acting like a chick’s girlfriend who says her bestie looks great no matter what ridiculous crap she pulls.”

Castiel’s mouth rolled into an U shape and his eyebrows got so drawn together that he almost had an unibrow. He was trying so incredibly hard to understand what Dean was getting at, but not one bit made _any_ sort of sense to him.

“We’re men, dude, my feelings or whatever won’t get hurt, I promise,” Dean continued, rolling his eyes. It wasn’t like Cas couldn’t _see_ him, he was right fucking there. “You don’t have to be so fucking polite all the time, Casss. It’s no fucking news that I’m fat as fuck.” Dean finally got it out. _It was out there._ His heart was racing a million miles a minute and his cheeks and face and neck and hands were all hot and he could hear the blood bumping in his veins and he was getting _so_ dizzy.

He wasn’t even angry anymore. The immense stress was getting the best of thim. The stress of always having to act that yeah, he, Dean Winchester, was totally fine with the way he looked because that’s what people expected of a freshman in college who likes to party, drink and sway. Dean who actually had gathered quite a group of friends in Darliton. Dean who drove the Impala. Dean who painted the most amazing paintings that other students always stole from him and then hung them up on their wall. That same Dean, in real life, wasn’t actually confident in himself at all. That same Dean often wondered how he came to have a friend like Cas in the first place, sure, there was Benny back home, but they were friends because they grew up together and because they were the only two boys the same age in the neighborhood until Dean had to move away. They still continued to talk online or play games together online. Sometimes they even met up or something like that. Dean started to block Benny out as well because Benny knew Dean in and out. Benny was aware of Dean’s weird habits around food, but they never openly talked about it. Although Benny never let it slide when Dean refused food when he wasn’t supposed to.

Yet there he was, Dean Winchester _talking_ about his insecurity _out loud._

“Dean...” Cas said, paused, looked at his friend. “You can’t be serious.”

“Serious about what?” Dean asked, lighting another cigarette. He was beyond done with this.

“That you’re… I honestly can _not_ even say it, but, that you’re _fat?_ Do you think you’re fat, Dean?” Castiel inquired, tilting his head to the left a little, his blue eyes huge as ever.

“What does it matter what I think? I am. I am fat, Cas, it’s fine, I’m dealing with it,” Dean said, angry and tired and smoking his cigarette as fast as he could, still desperately trying to fight away the dizziness.

“Dealing with it?”

“I’m exercising and shit, what else, dude, it’s not important.”

Castiel just closed his eyes, quietly shaking his head, his hands in his trench coat pockets, not really having any real ideas on how to approach the situation. Despite having some solid knowledge about eating disorders and a very good knowledge about health and nutrition, he had never actually _dealt_ with anything like that. His heart started to ache a bit because Dean… who he had had a crush on since day one, was that insecure. How could that even be? It was almost March and he only now started to get it? Was he really that much of a horrible friend? _Why_ didn’t he act on his suspicions before? Because Dean had been lying to him and Cas had trusted Dean.

“Dean, does this mean that you lied to me before?” Cas asked right away, his eyes still closed.

“Lied? About what?”

“I asked if you had bulimia, you said no, but...”

“I don’t have _that,”_ Dean answered right away, not letting Cas finish.

“Okay,” Cas nodded, “Anorexia then?”

“Yup, that’s me, the anorexic,” Dean spat out sarcastically, but Cas didn’t pick up on it because Cas had trouble understanding jokes anyway and he definitely didn’t get them while he was discussing something as serious as this.

“You are?” Cas opened his eyes in a flash.

“No, what, Cas, c’mon, be real,” Dean squinted his nose.

“I am real, Dean. I am right here.” Castiel sighed and sat down again, on the park bench. It was getting darker and darker by the minute and Castiel’s trench coat wasn’t doing him justice. He was cold. It was one of those colder nights as well. He put his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees and sighed, saying “Dean, Dean, Dean….”

Meanwhile Dean was ongoingly struggling to keep himself conscious, the nicotine not doing his part of the job which was to calm a person’s nerves. Dean’s nerves were all over the place and twisted in a million knots, desperately trying to figure out a way to _undo_ this and end the conversation. Backtrack. Dean needed to backtrack real fast and real far.

“I, uh, just thought maybe you could help me or something, you know. You’re all into the fitness stuff, I know that I most of the time shut you down when you start with that crap, but now I actually wanna listen, man. So shoot. How to lose weight, Cas?” Dean attempted to make it more lighthearted. He didn’t care one bit for Cas’ actual advice, he knew how to lose weight, he was just trying to play dumb, so it’d all blow over quicker. He _did_ have a wish for the supplements Cas sometimes used, that’d be perfect if Dean could land some.

Castiel didn’t answer. He took a good few minutes to just sit there, next to a chain smoking Dean with his face in his freezing hands.

“Dean,” Castiel groaned finally, “I can clearly see that you _are not_ overweight. You don’t need to lose anything.”

“Don’t start with that bull again, please,” Dean whined. “It’s silly. I know what I am, Cas. I know it very well.” Dean was looking at his feet, trying not to blush for once, but it didn’t work out at all. He was red all over again, or still red, he couldn’t tell anymore. And his heart rate had a mind of his own.

“Seems to me you don’t know what you are at all,” Cas said, turning to Dean. He noticed how Dean was shaking his leg and playing with his hands in a nervous way. “Dean, take it easy. It’s okay. You just have a distorted image of your body.” Cas was slowly growing used to the idea that Dean Winchester had a very screwed up self-image and probably an eating disorder. He tried to remain calm and collected to not upset Dean more, but it wasn’t a walk in the park for Cas either and he himself was kind of anxious and weirded out and _mad._ He was mad and angry and upset with himself for not noticing sooner.

“More like you just have distorted eyes, Cas,” Dean said, voice not spiteful, but tired because his insane heart in his chest was taking all in him and it wasn’t supposed to go like this, they were supposed to laugh at Dean and maybe set up some workout routine and an eating plan and some shit like that not have _the_ talk.

“I have 20/20 vision.”

“Whatever, can we drop this now?”

“No because this is serious, Dean.”

“Uh, yeah, serious because it’s unhealthy to be this fat, but…”

“What?!” Castiel interrupted Dean all of a sudden which he never did. The question was asked with a loud and piercing voice, scaring Dean a little. Dean started to think of another lie, another denial, but he didn’t get that far since the dizziness got a hold of him and suddenly all he saw was black dots dancing around his eyes and he heard a far-away voice shouting.

 

“Welcome back,” Castiel said, sipping on tea and looking at his roommate rising from the bed. Dean took a hold of his head first thing and groaned, it hurt like fucks.

“You fainted and hit your head,” he announced, “Here, take these.” Castiel gave him two tablets and a glass filled with water. Dean drowned the pills willingly.

“I apologize for not catching you, I was rather occupied with being _extremely_ upset with you, Dean,” Cas said, in a very important kind of voice. Dean touched his chest and knees, to check if everything was in place and if he had hit anything else. He hadn’t. It was just the head ache. He was only in his usual military green tee, the jacket that he had worn outside gone, but he didn’t bother to ask about it. He gulped down the last bit of the water in the glass and set it on the table.

“How-how long was I out for?” Dean decided to ask.

“About half an hour.”

Dean nodded at that. Nothing too dramatic. It happens.

“I’m going to take a wild guess here, and do mind that I’m being _very_ sarcastic about the ‘wild guess’ thing, and say that you fainted because of hypoglycemia.”

“Hypo-what?” Dean looked at Cas, confused as hell.

“Low blood sugar.”

Dean nodded again, he wasn’t in that much of a mood to talk, especially not on the topics they were discussing _before_ he fainted.

“Do you know what causes low blood sugar?” Castiel asked, leaning against the desk next to Dean’s bed, slurping on his evening tea. Dean didn’t answer. He didn’t even look towards his friend. He didn’t care.

“Eating considerably less than your body actually needs and over exercising,” Cas answered his own question.

“Huh, that’s weird,” Dean commented, acting clueless because he actually kind of _was_ clueless. In his world he didn’t over exercise, he exercised just enough. In his world, he actually ate too much not too little. Castiel looked at his friend, anger rising in him once again. _Why_ was Dean denying it? It was as clear as day that Dean wasn’t treating his body very well.

“Wait,” Dean squinted his face, looking around him. “How did I get here? We were out side…”

“I carried you.”

“You-you what?!”

“I don’t understand what’s the problem, you were unconscious and it was cold outside, what was I supposed to do…”

“But, what… no. I’m-I’m too heavy, Cas, why did you, uh,” Dean panicked, just thinking about Cas carrying him _all_ the way to their room while Dean was _still_ so _heavy_. Sure, Cas was strong, but not _that_ strong. Now there was no way he could ever hide his fatness, it was clear to Cas now, he was sure of it. “I’m so sorry you had to do that, man.”

“Do you really think I’m that weak?” Cas asked, his anger replaced by bewilderment. Carrying Dean upstairs had been no trouble to Castiel who had been lifting weights for years now. In fact, he expected Dean to be much heavier since Dean was taller than him, but when Cas picked his mate up it was obvious that the boy had lost a lot of weight, more than Cas had initially thought. It was hard to notice the real damage if Dean was always covered in layers.

“No, dude, I’m just really fat,” Dean said those spiteful words again that made Cas’ brain hurt.  


	9. The Slightly Unexpected Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some elaborate confessions take place on both sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, bitch. 
> 
> Actually, I didn't like AHS: Coven, but yeah, it's fitting to my situation. Thought you'd seen the last of me, huh. NOPE. I'm still here.  
> I had trouble with my own shit and then bacterial pneumonia hit me right after like a brick and I was down for over a month, so, you know, yah. I think bacterial pneumonia is a pretty good excuse for not updating for a century, if I do say so myself. (no actually it can be a very serious thing and if youve had it, i feel you and i know, i was surprised too that i didnt die)  
> I'm well now and my fic has so many kudos suddenly I mean what?? You guys are all weird, but ily. And I'm humbled.  
> But, this update, not sure of it. But okay. If you still like my fic, you're very weird and I very much love you.  
> Have fun reading!

“But, no, you’re not, Dean, you’re just not,” Cas said hurriedly like if he would say it fast enough, Dean would believe him. His suffering friend just looked at him, pained.

“I… I can see that you’ve lost weight,” Cas tried to say something, not knowing what is okay to say and what is not, but knowing full well that body dysmorphic disorder and eating disorders were delicate and every word he said could make it so much worse for Dean, but very few words would make it better. Maybe he shouldn’t rush a diagnosis on Dean because after all, he wasn’t a doctor and wasn’t even studying to be one. He sighed, Dean still quiet.

“I only see you eat if we’re watching TV and drinking. You don’t even come to the cafeteria anymore,” Cas said next, tone quiet.

“So?”

“So, I’m thinking, maybe that’s the only time you _do_ eat.”

“It’s not.”

“I can’t be sure of that.”

“So, what, you don’t trust me anymore?! You’re calling me a liar?” Dean raised his voice in anger because Cas was getting too close to the waters.

“Ugh, no, I’m not!” Castiel rolled his eyes, all his carefulness going out the window the moment Dean’s voice got louder. “I’m just stating what I know, Dean. I know that you have lost a rather large amount of your body weight and the only way one loses weight is if they’re in a caloric deficit. And I never see you eat anymore, expect when we drink and we don’t drink every day, Dean, do we?”

“It’s none of your business when and what I eat though, is it?” Dean rose up from the bed with a sway in his step and had to grab a hold of the table. Cas was right beside him. Didn’t take him a second.

“Dean?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m fine!” Dean tried to shove him away, but his vision was full of gray dots again and he ended up leaning on his friend instead.

“Dean, when was the last time you ate?”

“Today, obviously,” Dean said without thinking because you were supposed to eat daily and it was well into the evening already, so surely, he must’ve eaten sometime, even though he couldn’t recalling doing it today. Or yesterday. Maybe he had something on Wednesday?

“No, you didn’t. I was with you.”

Dean’s vision finally redeemed itself and he stood up straight, letting go of Cas. He caught a quick look of Cas’ blue plates for eyes and noticed sadness and worry in them. He turned away.  

“Dean… why?” Cas asked him. Somehow the question was asked with such a hoarse voice of concern that Dean was caught off guard. He didn’t want to lie. He couldn’t even think of any lies anymore.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Uh,” Cas said awkwardly, not expecting Dean to cave that quickly. “That’s alright. I’ll just make you a sandwich. Whole wheat toast with lettuce and chicken breast, how’s that sound? Fibre and protein.”

Dean shrugged, not really sure of what he just admitted to Cas with the whole “I don’t know” thing because in reality, he hadn’t told Cas anything with the sentence. But for some reason it felt like Dean had just confessed everything he had fought so hard to conceal. Cas seated Dean back to his bed and took a few steps to the kitchen where he prepared the sandwich with lighting speed. His mind was full of questions and what to say to Dean and all of it was coming together. Dean had a problem with food, he knew that much and that he had suspected a few times already, but always chose to believe Dean and not jump to his conclusions which might’ve not been true, but this time Cas wasn’t letting it go, no way on earth.

Dean had lost so much weight, all going unnoticed to Castiel, even when other students on the campus were talking how good Dean looked nowadays. Cas had thought he always looked good. That was nothing new. Cas was so occupied with Dean’s pink plush lips and his jungle green eyes, he didn’t take account of his body. Yeah, he was a bit on the chubby side when they met the first time, but Cas thought nothing of it. He didn’t care and Dean was still wearing the same clothes he wore then and, yeah, damn, they were just _huge_ on him. Come to think of it, Cas now recalled seeing his jeans being held up only by the belt one time, he had chosen to ignore that too.

Ignorance is bliss. Cas just couldn’t allow himself to believe that Dean had a problem other than smoking and drinking too much. That was enough headache for Cas already.

“Here you go,” Cas shoved the plate to Dean’s face and pulled out Dean’s desk chair and sat onto it. Not even a meter away from Dean. He put his elbows to his knees and hands together. His mind still racing with questions and theories.

“Thanks,” Dean accepted the plate and stared at the food. Just a regular sandwich, at least, it was supposed to be. Not to Dean though. He saw 285 calories on the plate. And mayo. He might’ve even eaten it, but he knew fucking mayo was basically just pure fat and he also fucking knew that he couldn’t go to the bathroom to throw it up because Cas was _so_ on to him. “I’m not hungry though.”

Cas sighed, deep and long.

“Honestly, Dean, I don’t care,” he said. “You’re eating it.”

“When did we start forcing food down my throat?!”

“Since you’re not eating!” Cas snapped back. Immediately regretting it. “Uh, excuse me. I’m-I’m not forcing you to do anything, but I very strongly recommend you eat it because you haven’t eaten for god knows how long and a human needs food as fuel to function.”

“I ate yesterday.” Dean wasn’t sure though, he probably didn’t, but he kind of wanted to believe that he did because when had he gotten so good at not eating? A slight smile crept up in the corner of his mouth. It felt good. He had come so far. He was strong, finally. If he carried on like this, he could end up looking like he always wanted to look, you know.

“I’m glad, but you need food every single day, not every other day, so, please, eat. It’s good for you, I promise,” Cas pleaded.

“Mayo ain’t good for you.”

Cas rolled his eyes and took the plate from Dean. Went to the kitchen and made another one, _without mayo_ , while eating the other one himself with large, angry bites.

“Since when do you care whether the food you eat is healthy or not? Last weekend you had no difficulties with devouring a bottle of jack and coke with a pizza on top of it. Not even mentioning the smoking.” Cas handed him the slightly improved sandwich, but Dean didn’t take it, so he placed it on the table and sat on the chair in front of Dean again. Dean swallowed hard and felt stupid for even thinking he was strong. And embarrassed that he lets himself pig out like that in front of others.

“I was just making a point, that’s all,” he said, eventually looking at Cas whose eyes were still as sad as ever.

“But why won’t you eat it?”

“Cas, I don’t _need_ the sandwich,” Dean said between clenched teeth. He didn’t. He was doing so good. He wasn’t about to break now. His body could use his fat as fuel, had plenty of it.

“Why not?”

“’Cause…” Dean started, not sure how to explain to Cas in a way that didn’t seem slightly insane.

“Yeah, ‘cause? Basic human needs don’t apply to you or something incredible like that?” Cas asked with a very know-it-all tone. Leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms. His white tee exposed a bit of his lean stomach and dark soft hair leading up to his belly button which was still covered by the T-shirt. Dean was caught off his trail of thought in a second seeing that. _God,_ he wanted that. Castiel looked so fucking amazing, _all the time_. Dean was still on the fence about _why_ he couldn’t stop looking every time Cas exposed even an inch of skin.

“Dean?”

“I… I just, you know, I have…” Dean tried to have a go at explaining himself, but now it was even more difficult ‘cause he felt kind of aroused and  was way too captivated by Cas. How his biceps pressed against his hands, making them bulge out and straining the sleeves of his shirt. The more he looked, the more out of it he got.

He should be afraid and coming up with lies and denial as best he could, but for some reason he wasn’t upset or scared that Cas would find out about his ways. He just couldn’t. He didn’t care. It’s not like Cas’ could _actually_ force him to eat anyways or that Cas would even care that much. Why would a guy like Castiel care about someone like Dean? Even if he told Cas that he sometimes fasts or something like that, what would he do? Probably nothing. Guys as hot as Cas had better things to do. Like taking care of their own bodies, not worry about someone else’s.

“Dean?” Cas had to call his name again, due to another too long of a silence, “What do you have?”

“Fat,” Dean uttered without thinking really, eyes still clued to Cas’ body and trying to fight his ever increasing arousal.

“So do I,” Cas shrugged. That sentence brought Dean right back from his arousal cloud.

“What?” Dean asked, his head leaning a bit forward. Cas wasn’t fat.

“Everybody has fat on them, is supposed to have fat on them. It’s part of having a healthy body. Body fat is crucial to your body functioning normally and healthy.”

“Yeah, didn’t mean it like that, obviously,” Dean scoffed.

“You can’t seriously be suggesting again that you’re fat?”

“I _can_ and I _am_ ,” Dean felt yet again anger rising in him because Castiel was being disgustingly nice again, or trying to be. “I’m… I’m not like you, Cas. If I eat, I’ll get even fatter and for once in my life, I would like to _not_ be fat, so yeah, I’m not gonna eat that sandwich, I’ll eat something tomorrow morning when I’ll actually be burning it off and that’s that.”

Castiel just stared at his friend in disbelief.

“Dean, I’ve said it so many times already, but I’ll say it again. You are not fat, not even slightly. I’m positive that you even weigh less than me and it’s not healthy, especially if you’re not eating.”

“Less than you?!” Dean laughed.

“Yes,” Cas said slowly, looking at Dean. He just couldn’t believe it. What did Dean see? “Dean, you look… great, if I may say so and if you’d let me, I’d help you because I can’t watch you do this to yourself. I… I don’t know how long you’ve been doing it, but I’m really hoping it hasn’t been that long and that you’ve just gone too far with trying to lose weight and we’ll get you back on track, alright?”

“First of all, I _don’t_ look great, I know that and I don’t need your pity and most definitely I don’t need any help because I’m already on track with everything, okay, so snap out of it, Cassie,” Dean suddenly stood up and Cas did the same.

“No, Dean, you’re not track with anything if you won’t even eat a sandwich,” Cas took a hold of Dean’s wrist to keep him from running off somewhere again. “And I think you look great, and… and... quite… hot even,” Castiel said, looking to the ground and blushing a bit. He just wanted Dean to genuinely believe that Cas was telling the truth, no matter what it took.

“W-what?” Dean’s heart rate picked up.

“I… Maybe… If… I mean,” Cas tried to get the words out of his mouth, but suddenly his mouth was dry and hands sweaty. “I’m gay.”

“Oh, o-okay,” Dean managed, totally taken aback cause he never ever would’ve thought that of Cas. “Could-could you like, let go of me?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Cas said and loosened his grip.

“I am not though, um, that,” Dean said, awkwardly.

“But… but, what about the kiss?” Cas asked, tone hopeful.

“The kiss? Cas, uhm, we… have never kissed, alright, sorry, I’m just not gay. I do not like men, so, keep your distance and don’t get any ideas, okay,” Dean stated. Stepping away from Cas, suddenly being too close to him freaking him out.

“Oh, I see,” Cas mumbled, “Didn’t think you’d be a homophobe, especially since you have no trouble getting hard over me.” Cas giggled a bit.

“Dude,” Dean’s eyes went as huge as plates and he started to feel aggressive. “What the fuck are you on about?!”

Cas shrugged.

“Fucking shut your face, alright!” Dean pushed Cas with both of his hands, and he stumbled into the table.

“I can do that,” Cas said, mischievously smiling and grabbing a hold of Dean’s head with his large hands and kissing him passionately. Even though he was worried about Dean and wanted desperately to understand and help him, he had no trouble switching from extreme concern to totally horny. He was  just a young lad after all.

Dean’s whole body lit up, but he didn’t want it to. He struggled against Cas’ hold, but it was no use. He tried to not answer the kiss, but feeling Cas’ built hands grabbing him and sliding his own hands over Cas’muscles, first in an attempt to free himself, then just to _feel_ the smooth skin and the hardness of Cas’ body. He started to move his lips along with his partner’s. His arousal making a comeback so fast, he was hard all over.

Cas chuckled.

_Dean was so totally beyond screwed. Fuck his entire existence._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe comment if you liked it and want to do that <3 I like hearing from ya.   
> I'll try to update in the next two weeks at least!


	10. He Can Prove It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is trying to fight his sexuality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi... I'm back.  
> It's been a year. A shit one at that, I have no real excuse, really, sorry for leaving you hanging.  
> Was just too sad and too bulimic to write this, now I'm not as sad, but life is crazy. 
> 
> Heads up, I think this is the shittiest chapter I've written yet, but just wanted to out this as a sign that I'm still doing this, because I got a realreal nice comment recently on this and reading that made me want to get my shit together regarding this story. Since apparently it's still somewhat relevant for some of you guys.  
> Love you a lot, you can always comment and chat and pester me, 'cause I'm trash at motivating myself.

“No, no, no, stop it!” Dean exclaimed after they had been joined already for a couple of minutes, both burning up with desire. For a moment Dean got his _friend_ off him, but Cas wasn’t stopping, couldn’t even help himself and just kept going, leaning back into the kiss, tightening his grip. His hands made their way down and then started to slip under Dean’s shirt. Dean flinched away and grabbed Cas’ wrists.

“Do. Fucking. Not.” Dean spat out from between his teeth, the kissing came to an end, both breathing heavily and looking each other in the eye. Dean still had Castiel’s wrists in his hands. Cas looked at his roommate up and down, licked his lips and started to push his hands forward and placed them on Dean’s hips. It was like an electric shock to Dean, feeling those huge hands on him. He closed his eyes, his breathing slowing down, trying to find some sort of self-control to step away from Cas, but just couldn’t gather any.

Cas made a second attempt to move his hands up Dean’s sides, but he was cut off yet again. Dean shoved his hands back and started to breathe all heavy all over again.

“Shitfuck,” Dean mumbled fast and out of breath. “Don’t fucking… just… please.” He looked down. Maybe, just maybe, Dean could handle having the hots for his god damned male roommate, ‘cause it didn’t have to mean that Dean was gay. He could still recover from this. Somehow.

It was just a clusterfuck amount of _envy_ he kept repeating to himself.

He wasn’t into men like that, _he wasn’t._

Yeah, he was just so full of longing for the body Cas had, not Cas himself.

His fucked up brain was confused and maybe he was little deprived of sex. A little? Hell, he hadn’t even _had_ sex. And it’s not like he got himself off that often either.

But what Dean couldn’t handle or recover from, was anybody in this universe touching his stomach. He didn’t want the contrast between him and Cas made even more obvious and even if he was so totally not gay, he didn’t want Cas to find out how out of shape he actually was.

“You’re… you’re gorgeous, Dean,” Cas whispered softly, trying to get closer to Dean again. “Let me.” Dean just squeezed his eyes shut even more and started to shake his head. _Lies._

“No, just, please, like… Fuck. Don’t , okay. I can’t,” Dean begged ‘cause going against Cas with force wasn’t the smartest of ways to get out of the situation when Dean could still feel the extent of Castiel’s hard, sculpted body. And even if he could out win the guy, he had no willpower to do something like that.

He _wanted_ Cas, no matter how much he tried to push the thoughts out of his mind. He wanted to feel those lips against his, the shock of having Cas touch him, feel him up. It was torture, standing so close to your desire and not letting yourself experience it.

Dean didn’t deserve it.

Cas did not actually want him.

It was a mistake.

 _He_ was a mistake.

“Dean,” Castiel said and lifted up Dean’s chin. “You are. You are so freaking gorgeous, I can’t even… I… and… it’s okay, you know. It’s perfectly alright to like whoever you like.”

A string of silence mixed with heavy, weighed breaths.

“Dean,” Cas started again. “Just let me touch you. We don’t even have to do anything. I would just like to touch you. You’re stunning. I promise.”

“But, I’m not, Cas, I’m not, that’s where you’re wrong, I don’t know what it is that you see in me, but you’ve got it all wrong. I’m… I mean look at you, Cas.”

“No, I want to look at you, Dean, not myself,” Cas said in a hurried tone, licking his lips again. “Will you please let me, Dean?”

Dean shook his head with quick motions. Castiel sighed.

“Alright,” Cas stepped away from Dean. “I apologize, I shouldn’t push you like that. I just wanted to make you see what I see.”  Dean just stood still, not knowing what to do with himself. Cas paced around the room and ran his hands through his hair.

“I-I’m not gay,” Dean said out loud. “I’m not.” Castiel stared at him with disbelief, not daring to say anything, ‘cause the poor boy was in denial, that much was obvious. “I-I think, I-I just like… uh… I’m, I think I’m just jealous of your, uh, body…” Dean managed to line some words together to make up an actual sentence, but hearing himself say it made him feel _so_ stupid. It didn’t work like that, did it?

“Sorry, could you elaborate that?”

“You heard me, Cas. I’m not gay, I just, I mean, yeah, you’re like a Greek god or someone like that, and I’d so wish to look like that, but I don’t and-and I just, you’re the daily reminder how, uh, unfit I am and…”

“Wait. Wait,” his roommate stopped him and sighed. “I don’t think that makes sense, Dean. I can see that you’re uncomfortable with your sexuality and I won’t push it anymore, even when all I want is to rip those clothes off and kiss you all over and… Sorry, I didn’t mean to get ahead of myself.”

“Trust me, you do _not_ wanna see what’s underneath these clothes, man,” Dean chuckled.

"You're starting to scare me, Dean," Castiel sighed in confusion.

"What-Why?"

"There's nothing wrong with your looks and you're not fat or unfit or..." Castiel tried convincing Dean again, but deep down knew it was totally pointless. Dean was sick. Dean saw something completely different to what others saw.

"Please don't say that," Dean said weakly. It wasn't true and it made Dean feel so uncomfortable.

"Can you be honest with me for a second?"

"I-I'm not sure," Dean shook his head and looked to the ground. Trying to avoid Castiel's eyes to the best of his ability. Not even knowing what he would see in them. Disgust? Regret?

"How long has this been going on?"

"Has what been going on?"

" _Dean_." Tone harsh and demanding, indicating that Dean knew perfectly well what he meant and could Dean just please, for once, for a damned moment be straightforward and honest.

"A few months, I guess," Dean surrendered. With a lie. He wasn't ready to dump all his childhood shit on him and probably never would.

Castiel nodded, hands resting on his hips and mind deep in thought.

“We can take care of this,” he said after a while in a very confident way. Probably too confident.

“No, no. It’s totally fine, man. It-it’s not that bad even, like,” Dean tried to push his friend away in a nervous tone.

“Alright. How bad or should I say “fine” is it then?” Castiel stared with slight anger into Dean’s eyes. Desperately trying to not let himself get fooled by them. To be firm. Dean didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t really shared this with anyone and he mostly got told off for eating _too much_ , not too little. In a way Dean felt like he would be lying or faking if he told Castiel that he really actually kind of doesn’t even eat anymore. And if he does, it’s with an excess of alcohol and the cheapest junk food in copious amounts. That all end up somewhere that is so not his stomach.

“You fainted, Dean,” Castiel said slow and harsh. “That is not what fine is in my book.”

Dean eyes diverted from Cas and he started to look around the room, trying to find solace in something, but failing.

“I need to think some things trough,” Cas said with a finality and put his raincoat on. He looked at Dean for moment, closed in with a few steps and gave a strong hug to Dean which wasn’t answered. Dean’s hands were on his sides, limp. Eyes still avoiding his roommate.

 

After Castiel left in the dead of night, leaving Dean all alone in their room, Dean broke. It all became too much and he was too confused and he just didn’t know what was going to happen next, didn’t even know what to expect. Was now the time Castiel would want to switch rooms? Was he not going to talk to him anymore? Was he just screwing around with the kissing thing?

Oh, for god’s sake. Dean wanted Cas so fucking much, it was physically painful for him to turn him down, but he wasn’t gay. He couldn’t be gay. He didn’t want to be gay. Out of last minute desperation he went out to a pub and got himself a few beers. Then a few more, until his head was buzzing and mood lifted.

Dean went upto a girl. Dark hair and skinny, wearing too much make up. Asked what she was doing there all alone and the girl, Lisa, said she had just been dumped by her boyfriend. Her speech was as slurred as Dean’s and her intentions just as selfish. She needed a rebound. Dean needed to get laid. By a girl. They chatted for a while and then they went out for a smoke.

The looks they gave each other got longer and longer. More intense. One cigarette after another. Alcohol in their system adamantly  doing its job. Suddenly they were both more intoxicated than they meant to be.

“Wanna go to my place?” she asked. Dean nodded and put his arm around her hips. They walked, or more like, stumbled around a few corners and went  past many, many houses until they stopped at a corner house somewhere. Dean wasn’t really paying attention to his surroundings, but the beautiful girl in front of him. Brown eyes, bright smile. Smell of cigarettes and a girly perfume.

They pressed their lips together. The kiss was sloppy, but they didn’t mind. Dean started to move his hands around Lisa’s petite body and he quite liked it. Castiel was still in his mind. The fear still in his bones when Lisa started to touch his body. Was she going to stop when she could feel how fat he was?

She didn’t. They stumbled into Lisa’s house which was all in darkness. Up the stairs, a room on the left.

Once they were in her room, she removed Dean’s jacket in a flash and ran her hands around Dean’s torso trough the T-shirt. She giggled and said she thought he was bigger or something like that. It made Dean flinch and all the more nervous. When she wanted to take off Dean’s shirt as well, he stopped her by pushing her to the bed and worked on getting her naked.

Dean left his shirt on. Lisa was too drunk to mind.

 

The next morning he woke before Lisa. His head was pounding and tongue stuck to his mouth. He looked at her, the smudged make up and naked back. What a beautiful girl. He thought back to yesterday, remembering little. He vaguely even recalled having sex. He was able to get hard and come even, but his mind kept reverting to Castiel and every kiss and touch was compared to Castiel’s. Fuck.

He wasn’t a virgin anymore.

He wasn’t gay either.

He went to Lisa’s bathroom which was filled with all kinds of lotions and masks and make up. He noticed a water bottle and drank from it with big gulps. Then something else caught his eye. A scale next to the toilet. He immediately stepped on it.

152

He expected the number to be higher, but even if the number was lower than he thought, it wasn’t low enough.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Lisa pushed the bathroom door open. Her voice was raspy and hair ridiculously messy.

Dean’s heart went crazy and he blushed and stepped off the scale as fast as he could muster.  

“N-nothing,” he said nervously.

“Did you just… did you just weigh yourself?” Lisa asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean answered, embarrassed and looking to the ground. “Just saw the… the scale and thought why the hell not, you know.” He laughed nervously. People did that, that was normal. He hoped.

“Oh, yeah? Pleased with the number?” She inquired jokingly and went to the sink to wash her hands and brush her teeth.

“Yeah, well, could always be better you know.”

“Ohh, you’re one of those bodybuilders or something, right?” Lisa gave her a look, smile kind of flirty, even though she had a toothbrush in-between her teeth.

Dean scoffed.

“Yup, that’s me, your friendly neighborhood bodybuilder. Totally look it.”

Lisa eyed him in confusion.

“Well, yes, you _are_  a bit on the skinny side of things, but other than that, you _do_ totally look it.”

Dean was kind of weirded out by the comment, but decided to brush it off. He definitely wasn’t going to dig into his personal issues with a girl he met the day before. He quickly went back to Lisa’s room and put on his jeans which he hadn’t managed to do yet, jesus why. Lisa followed her, but didn’t bother with getting dressed. She seemed perfectly comfortable running around in an oversized white tee that sometimes exposed her perky little ass in black panties.

Dean did like the sight of that though.

They went downstairs, for breakfast, but Dean desperately wanted to leave. He didn’t think it was appropriate though, especially considering what the girl had just recently gone through. He was so new to these kind of things, damn. What now? Was he in a relationship? Was it a one night stand? What was the deal?

“By the way, you don’t have to hang around if you don’t want to,” Lisa said calmly, giving Dean a cup of black coffe. “Milk? Sugar?”

Dean shook his head and took the hot cup. He sat behind the island in the kitchen. The house was very nice. Modern, but homey. Did Lisa live there alone? He knew quite a lot about Lisa and her recent struggles which conveniently came up in last night’s heart-to-heart. What he didn’t know was her age or what she did or what she was about. He thought it to be rude to ask her age. He could guess she was maybe 20 or slightly even older.

“But it’s cool if you do hang… around,” Lisa added. “Last night was pretty great.”

“Yeah, what I remember of it seems pretty great.”

Lisa laughed.

“You remember we had sex, right?”

“How could I forget?” Dean smiled at Lisa, giving the impression that what they did was entirely amazing, but in truth, he could never forget because it was his first fucking time. Lisa didn’t need to know that though.

They drank their coffees, Dean turned down breakfast. Lisa had some eggs and toast. Some OJ. Dean really liked Lisa, she was a lot cooler than most chicks he had ever encountered. Down to earth and calm. Had a certain warmth about her. He felt really sorry that she had to go through such a difficult relationship where the guy constantly lied and cheated.

But Lisa wasn’t Cas.

Where even was Cas? What would become of them? Dean’s phone was dead, so he couldn’t reach him. He asked to charge his phone.

When his phone finally turned on, it was filled with notifications. From Cas.

_02:30AM Where have you gone?_

_02:32AM Are you okay?_

_03:21AM I need to talk to you._

_03:22AM Dean?_

_03:29AM Please answer._

_10:12AM Why aren’t you at school?_

Shit. School. It was Friday. He actually really couldn’t afford to skip any more lessons.

“Wow, someone’s popular,” Lisa commented when she noticed the flow of notifications coming in.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Look, I don’t know about you, but I have school, actually, so I think I gotta go.”

“Oh, okay,” Lisa said, she seemed surprised. “That’s fine.”

They changed contacts and she gave Dean a slight kiss on the cheek, told him to be good and wished him well.

Dean walked hurriedly towards the school, fighting back the urge to _binge_.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Honestly.  
> I'll try to gather some actual writing abilities for the next chapter.


	11. Short of love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're finally getting somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um hello hi.  
> This has been sitting there for months and months now and I'll just release it as is. It's a bit short and I apologize for ditching you all again DAMMNNN. 
> 
> Had a real bad break up a while ago and recently was hospitalized 'cause I went pretty insane lol. Attempted suicide and what not. Now getting treatment for substance abuse and bulimia and other shittttt, whao. Clearing my act up, never thought that day would hit me, but it's here.  
> Thanks for support, this is still my little baby. I don't watch Supernatural anymore either, but I still want to finish this. I'LL GET THERE.  
> ily and ty

Dean decided upon texting Cas his whereabouts and then they ended up on meeting up at their regular local cafe where they’ve held one too many of those awkward serious talks.

Dean got a coffee. Black.

Castiel got a fresh juice and a chicken club sandwich. Dean got frowned upon for not ordering anything else, but didn’t get pushed to either. Thank god. He felt as if even a little drop of food would touch his lips, he’d be gone. It would be a full out binge. It’s all or nothing.

“I’ve known you for a while now, Dean,” Cas started and Dean could _feel_ the seriousness that was about to take place. Good thing he was sporting a hangover. “I’ve actually been worried about you since the beginning, but lately, all I do is worry. You’re not fine and I want to help you. I honestly do.”

“You can’t help me.” Dean was blunt. Tired. Afraid. He didn’t want to be there, but kind of did at the same time. He wanted help, but didn’t think he deserved it.

“I can if you’d let me.”

“Even if I’d let you, you couldn’t help me.”

“Why do you think so?” Castiel asked with a deep concern.

“There’s really nothing to help me wi-,” Dean had a go at denial, but was instantly cut off.

“Please!” Cas raised his voice a little, “Stop, just stop with the lying, Dean. It’s quite foolish of you to think that you could dismiss this whole situation.”

Dean had to admit Cas was right. It had gone too far. He had said too much.

So he reluctantly agreed to let Cas in, little by little. Information had to be pulled and grinded out of him and everything he gave, was practically false.

He had just gone too far.

He didn’t realize what he was doing.

He hadn’t eaten for two days.

No, he didn’t throw up his food. Ever. He wasn’t like that.

Just sometimes he binged on food when he’d been restricting too much. Cas told him that it’s an obvious side effect of malnutrition and Dean shouldn’t be ashamed. He was anyway.

He only went running a couple of times a week.

No, he and Cas would not be running together. He’s too self-conscious.

In the end Dean made some false promises of trying to eat more and telling Cas if he wasn’t eating. He wasn’t planning on it though. What he was doing was working. He was getting there. Was almost _there._ He couldn’t let Cas ruin it now.

The subject of his confusing sexuality wasn’t touched. Thank god.

And if things with Lisa were going anywhere, he would like to have sober sex with her. Without a shirt. He’d reckon 10 more pounds and he would be okay to mingle. He didn’t mention her to Castiel. And he didn’t think he would.

 

Some odd weeks pass by and considering their talk and Dean’s claims that he’d try and do better, Castiel seldom saw him _actually_ eat. Or talk to him. Or even hang out with him. It was like Dean was avoiding him. Dean apparently was busy with school stuff. And working out.

Castiel actually yearned for Dean and felt as if the problems Dean were facing were tearing them apart in a way he didn’t want them to be torn apart. He didn’t dare to touch the sexuality thing since it’s a deeply personal thing and he had pushed Dean enough. In the end he can handle not having Dean to himself, but what he could not handle was losing Dean altogether.

Now Dean’s eating disorder wasn’t only eating away at him, but Castiel too. He thought about it more than his own life. Was Dean telling the truth when he said he had eaten? Had he lost more weight yet again? Castiel could swear he had. God fucking damn it.

There was an easter frat party on campus again which both boys went to. Dean and Cas hadn’t gone to an event together in quite some time. Dean got shitfaced, so did Cas. After all, that’s when you can bond with Dean the most, however sad it might be to admit.

“Deann, you have lost weight again, havan’ you?” Cas said, speech soft and eyes droopy. Beer bottle in hand. Sitting on a rock, they were about to go home, but Dean wanted a rest and Cas was feeling brave as a result of too much alcohol. They’ve been footing around it for far too long now. The tension. The fucking tension.

“Whyyy? Does it show?” Dean asked in an excited kind of way. “I-I got new clothes, if you hadnn’ noticed yet.” Of course he had fucking noticed. He noticed everything about Dean. Or so Cas would’ve liked to think. “So, that’s why it might seem that I’ve lost weight, but in truthhh, I have notttt. Well, actually, actually, I have! But foar sum reasonnn, it hasn’t caught up yet.” Dean took a massive drag out of his cig and looked thoughtfully into the distance.

“So, you’re still not eating, huh,” Castiel stated sadly and sat next to him. Asked Dean for a cigarette. Fuck it. Might as well. All his efforts over the past month had gone to fucking shit. He was tired. He was exhausted. He was frigid with worry. All his best efforts combined and Dean was still pushing him away. Still not secure enough with himself to let Cas touch him.

Dean was absolutely surprised, but gave Cas what he asked for.

“Casss, I can not just tell you what and how much I eat, bro.”

“But… but why not?”

“You couldnn’ bear it, you’re too cute and too nice,” Dean said, giggling. “Fuck, you’re cute.” He turned to Cas who was coughing on his cigarette which made him _even_ cuter.

“You’re hot,” Cas voiced his already known opinion to a guy who didn’t get it at all. Their eyes lingered on one another for quite some time, then Cas kissed him. And Dean answered the kiss with much less doubt and resistance than usual.

His kiss was different. More experienced. More lustful.

The kiss lasted. Untill Cas made the mistake of putting his hand on Dean’s stomach. That’s when Dean pulled away and adjusted his yet another black tee.

“Nnnope,” Dean said in a kidding voice and smiled at Cas. Yeah, he wanted more. Yeah, he was totally hard and so was Cas, but ever since him and Lisa have had that thing, he was not _so_ desperate anymore. And lately he hadn’t even felt the urge to do it with Lisa. They had only met up a couple of times, each time drunk and with the sole purpose to fuck. Lisa was  23 and working as a journalist for some magazine Dean didn’t care for at all. She was well off.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Cas uttered under his breath.

“Well, don’t want you up in my rolls, haha,” Dean tried to joke, but the laugh was forced and there was more pain behind it than even Dean realized.

“That iss not funny.” Cas tried to be serious.

“Oh, c’mon, fat people are always funny.”

Cas rose up from the rock and stared at Dean. He swayed a little, made an end to his beer and raised his hand in a matter of fact way.

“You are not fucking fat, Dean!” he right out _yelled_. Dean was taken aback and his green eyes went wide as caves. Castiel grabbed Dean who dropped his plastic cup to the ground, beer flowing between their feet. He hugged Dean deeply and then took his head in between his robust arms.

“Fuck, you are one handsome human being.” The blue and green eyes were both lost. Then the kissing started up again, more passionate than it had ever been. And Cas was smarter now,  he didn’t touch Dean’s body, only his neck, but let Dean touch his.

They were completely immersed in making out, trapped in a drunken haze, overflowing with held back sexual tension. Dean didn’t even know or really got for how long they were just making out, but he liked it. He loved it. He craved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omfg your comments are SO NICE, SO SO SO NICE  
> I can't even, ahhh, I'm currently unemployed and in rehab lmao so like, I'll aim for a once a month update? You guys if you still like this story, so deserve it, I'm trash and keep disappearing ugh


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